


Love

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Ready For The Siege [21]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Dom Natasha Romanov, Dom/sub, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Magic-Users, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship Problems, all the Avengers were traumatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many different ways to express emotion, affection and love. There are just as many different ways to protect others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Faces

"This is utterly ridiculous," the brunette with Jane wailed, pitching a wadded up napkin toward the garbage can. She missed, but both women ignored it. Jane pushed the mug full of tea at the brunette, her expression one of sympathy. With her back to Natasha and Pepper, it was difficult to see what the brunette's reaction was. She was studiously ignoring the tea, however.

"What did we miss?" Pepper asked, entering the room. Natasha suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Pepper. This was why she was a CEO and not a spy; spies would wait and listen while undetected to get their information, while a CEO simply dove right in and tried to fix things.

The brunette whirled around, then looked back at Jane. She had pale skin, large eyes behind her glasses, full lips that were currently grimacing, and a lush figure that was covered up by a thick sweater despite the warmer weather. "Shit. Totally didn't mean to trample on whatever girl time you had planned, Jane."

Jane waved off her concern. "No, they finished their yoga session. I don't go to those."

"Wait, what?"

"Anyway," Jane continued, gesturing for Pepper and Natasha to enter. "Darcy, this is Pepper and Natasha. They live in the tower, too. And technically, you'd be working for Pepper this summer."

"Jane!" Darcy yelped, appearing mortified. "You can't let me look like a whiny idiot in front of my future boss! That violates the girl code or something!"

"Technically," Pepper said with a gracious smile, heading over to the large fridge, "someone else will be your direct supervisor in HR. I'm just CEO of the company. You likely won't see me at all there."

"Why don't you say what's gotten you so upset?" Natasha offered. She grabbed the juice Pepper handed her and sat down at the table with Darcy and Jane.

"Just that I'm an idiot and just as much one of _those girls_ I always make fun of on reality shows," Darcy said, clearly irritated with herself. "Dave was such an ass, I thought it was his thesis getting to him. He's usually uptight, but it was just ridiculous. So I told him I was putting in an extra tutoring session, totally lying because what? Me? Volunteer for even more pain in Poli Sci? I don't think so. But he believed me, and I thought I would do something nice like make him a fancy dinner and dessert. I make an awesome chocolate eclair cake. That loser, though, what do I see after I walk in the apartment with three bags of groceries?" Her voice rose in agitation, getting almost shrill. "He's fucking his TA! Asshole! So I bitch them both out, give all the fixings to Clara, because she could use the food, holy god, the girl has barely nothing to live on after the loans pay for tuition, and hopped on a train up here. I still have class on Monday, but I don't want to look at his stupid face."

Everyone at the table heaved an understanding sigh. "You know what the problem with your tea is?" Natasha asked, standing up.

"No, what?"

"Jane forgot the vodka."

Darcy blinked at Natasha, and watched as she got out a bottle of Skyy from the freezer. "Oh. You're not kidding."

"Of course not. Stereotypical, but it does the trick. Drink up, Jane filled that mug pretty full."

A few gulps cleared out enough room for alcohol, and Natasha left the bottle out "just in case." Which had Pepper snickering and Jane sighing. "This is not a good tasting combo."

"You're not drinking it for the taste," Natasha reminded her.

"Total waste of alcohol," Darcy muttered. That didn't stop her from gulping down the rest of the mug, however.

"What was your loser's name?" Natasha asked, pulling out the cell phone she had brought with her to the yoga session. Pepper eyed her in curiosity, but Natasha merely mouthed _trust me._

Delightfully buzzed, Darcy rattled off all the embarrassing bits of information about Dave that she could remember. She frowned when Natasha abruptly interrupted her with "He has several unpaid parking tickets and a moving violation in Florida."

"Wait, what?"

"I think the Florida police would love to know that dickhead Dave is still at Culver University," Natasha told Darcy sweetly. She returned to her phone and tapped at the screen rapidly. Jane blinked in surprise as Pepper smothered a laugh at Darcy's startled expression. "There. Done."

"I'm feeling slow," Darcy said, frowning at her. "I don't get it."

"He owed several hundred dollars and there was a warrant out for him," Natasha explained. "I think that getting himself jailed and fined heavily is a good start for hurting your feelings."

"You don't even know me!"

"But you're Jane's friend, and I'm not particularly fond of anyone treating women badly," Natasha told her.

"She's being nice," Pepper told Darcy, patting her arm gently. "And you know, you could always move up early. You wouldn't fail out of Culver if you left two months early."

"I have my classes..."

"Oh, I'm sure I could work something out," Pepper said firmly. "I could talk to your advisor. SI donates a lot of money to Culver, I'm sure they could be understanding about it if your job starts in April rather than July."

Jane pulled Darcy in for a hug when she was too shell shocked to say anything in reply. "You'll stay with me, of course! I have plenty of room in my suite!"

"We have plenty of room in the tower," Pepper told Jane. "Isn't there a full suite across from yours that isn't being used right now?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"I can have a moving company clear out your apartment and move you up here in a week," Pepper told Darcy. "And the perfect time to introduce you as an employee would be at the benefit banquet we're hosting for the local science competition winners."

"Oh, no. Those things are public as all hell and I don't have a date. Not that I want one. I am so done with guys. And sex. No more sex, like, _ever."_

Natasha laughed. "In that case, I have the perfect person to be your date for the evening. Trust me, you'll be fine."

Darcy looked at her with a lost expression. Jane laughed and gave Darcy another hug. "This is sometimes how you make me feel, you know," she said cheerfully. "But don't worry! You'll get used to it. Living with the Avengers is never boring, I promise."

It looked as though it finally clicked who Darcy was talking to. She goggled at Natasha and Pepper, and could only make a plaintive mewling sound. "Shit, I am so dead, aren't I? Like, spilling state secrets or getting locked away for the rest of my life or something?"

"Of course not," Pepper said, affronted. "But hearing about some douchebag hurting a friend of a friend? That can't be allowed."

"The best revenge is living well," Natasha said, leaning forward.

"Really well," Pepper added. "Why don't we all go shopping? I could use new shoes."

"I already have the dress from the Lockheed Martin banquet," Jane protested.

"Please. I love shopping and you can't have too many evening dresses. You really can't." She smiled warmly at Darcy. "I never got you a graduation present yet. Can this be it?"

"I'm dreaming," Darcy muttered. She pinched herself and squeaked in pain. "OW! No, not dreaming." She looked at Natasha and Pepper, taking in their eager expressions. "All right then. Dress me up for your fancy party and gimme a date. But if he gets handsy, I'm going to taser him. Just ask Thor, I'll absolutely do it."

Natasha grinned. "Clint will be a perfect gentleman, I promise."

"Clint." Darcy blinked and looked at the smiling women in front of her. "As in the Avenger, Clint Barton? Former jackbooted thug from Puente Antigua?"

"The very same," Natasha agreed. "I'll have you know, he really appreciated that Ipod until I made him give it back. I did copy over your playlists, I hope you don't mind. We wound up using your workout playlist for a while after that."

"No shit?"

Jane laughed at her gobsmacked expression. "He's really nice. And loves pizza more than you."

"No way, man. That's the one thing Culver did right when they renovated the cafeteria."

Everyone else started laughing. "Oh, you two are going to be _perfect_ together," Natasha said warmly. "Welcome to the Tower, Darcy."

"You're not hooked up with him? I mean, all the gossip blogs say you are."

She shook her head. "No. It's just a waste of time to deny it. You two will have lots of fun."

"Hey, ladies!" came Sam calling from the hallway. "Is this a private coffee clutch?"

"Absolutely not!" Jane called out. She ignored Darcy scowling at her and grinned. "What? You always tell me I need to socialize more!"

"Not when I'm in need here. You know, the emotional comforting you're supposed to be doing for me right now?"

"It's not like you were really serious about Dave," Jane replied reasonably.

"Well, no, but it's the principle of the thing! You're supposed to comfort me and tell me how much of an asshole he is for screwing around on me."

"I did. And Natasha is siccing the cops on him, and Pepper I'm sure will do something sneaky and underhanded like getting his funding revoked."

"I do know Culver donors," Pepper said gravely as Darcy looked at her.

Sam caught the last part as he came into the kitchen, Loki trailing behind him. "We could go if this is a private party."

"We're planning to cheer up Darcy," Jane announced.

She frowned at Jane, ignoring the newcomers. "Way to be a friend, Jane."

"You're not _that_ upset..."

Darcy threw up her hands. "I was throwing a perfectly good pity party and then you all had to ruin that!" She seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded and started laughing. "Okay, fine, fine, you all win. Dave was a loser, anyway. He was only going for his BA and I've got my Ph.D as soon as I finish my defense. Not that that I'll really be using it, though." She chugged the rest of her spiked tea and handed the mug to Natasha. "Don't bother with the tea. Straight up vodka for me, please."

Snickering along with the ladies, Sam pulled up a chair. "Sounds like my kind of party."

"Rough group today?" Natasha asked sympathetically as she poured a liberal amount of vodka for Darcy.

"Probably the worst. Lost another two in the past week."

Loki pulled up a chair, sitting between Sam and Natasha. He sat rather stiffly as Natasha looked at him, a question in her gaze. "I knew them both. It was... difficult."

"I thought they were pulling through, you know?" Sam muttered, shaking his head. "I thought we were all doing good."

"They hid their despair well. None of us knew they had planned it," Loki murmured. He saw Darcy's questioning look. "Sam runs a support group at the Veteran's Association."

"Oh. But hey, didn't you try to take over New York like five or six years ago?" Darcy asked, frowning at him. "And you're chummy with everyone?"

Everyone froze for a moment, unsure what to say.

Loki held no such qualms. He merely grinned, all sharp teeth and menace. "I can be quite charming and useful should I choose to be."

"Yeah! That's the creepy-ass grin I saw in Puente Antigua and on the news for New York!" She pointed at his face and narrowed her eyes slightly. "I don't know what your game is, but if you hurt Jane, I will taser your ass into the next century. Don't think I won't. Ask Thor, I got him good. And I always keep it with me."

"You. Harmed Thor."

Darcy smiled, visibly proud of herself. "Yup. I tasered a god. Jane hit him with her truck, though. Twice," she added, smirking.

Loki looked at the two of them, then his smile turned genuine. "I hadn't known this."

Natasha poked him in the side. "You are _not_ bringing that up," she intoned in her domme voice. He straightened and put on a very insincere expression of innocence. "I don't believe that for a second, Loki. Promise me."

He shot her a mulish look. "Very well, I promise."

Pepper merely smirked at Darcy's bewildered expression. "Trust me, you'll get along just fine in this madhouse. The vodka might help, but it's not always necessary."

Sam grinned and shook the bottle, showing that it was nearly empty. "I'm not making the booze run, just so you know."

Darcy kept her narrow-eyed gaze on all of them. "I'm not entirely convinced that I'm not hallucinating or dropped sideways into a parallel dimension or whatever." She handed Sam her mug, still partially filled with vodka. "I should regrettably be sober for living here. Or working anywhere near here. Or living in New York."

Jane grinned and bumped shoulders with her. "You'll be great. You didn't know anything about physics or theoretical particles when you took that intern job and here you are."

She rolled her eyes. "I still don't know a thing about theoretical particles. But I can organize your stuff, know what's important and get you to eat regular meals. Easiest six science credits ever. Except for the nearly dying in Puente Antigua thing." She paused. "Is herding superheroes like herding scientists?"

"It's exactly like herding scientists," Pepper informed her.

"Sweet. I can totally do this job, then," Darcy said brightly. "Because other than teaching at a university, there aren't a lot of opportunities for a Ph.D. in poli sci, especially when I have no intention of being some kind of political commentator or whoring out my intelligence to some lobbyist group in Washington."

"See? Good fit." Jane gave her a swift hug. "I'm so glad you came up early, Darce. And I can show you all the work Bruce and I have been doing thanks to the new array that went up on the rocket a few months ago..."

Though she heaved a long suffering sigh, Darcy was grinning and hugging Jane back tightly.

***

Loki walked into Natasha's suite after confirming with Jarvis that she was there and not in some other area of the Tower. In the prior months, there was a schedule of sorts that had been worked out. Bruce tended to lead the yoga sessions, which Pepper, Natasha, Clint, James and Steve attended regularly. Natasha led the tougher sparring sessions, which seemed to mix capoeira, krav maga and kickboxing. Clint, Natasha, Steve and Tony regularly had competitions in the ranges that had been built. Though James was invited, he clearly was too hesitant to take part in that. Boxing and other hand to hand combat simulations were fine, but he didn't want to pick up a pistol or rifle. Clint also had time to work on arrow designs with Tony or he carefully took care of the bow and arrowheads by hand.

Breakfasts and lunches were a relative free for all, but slowly dinners evolved into a definite group activity. There were enough people present that one or two missing hardly made a dent in the noise level. Jane made a schedule on a whiteboard that was prominently posted in the kitchen, "barring any Avengers-level disaster," which also guaranteed that she was out of the lab regularly and got at least one meal a day. "I made an alarm!" she said defensively when Darcy questioned her on it. "Ask Jarvis!"

"Quite so, Miss Foster," Jarvis replied. "And I will only remind you if you aren't already on your way for a meal." That led Darcy to visibly relax.

It was nice and smothering at the same time. Loki didn't know how to deal with all this damned togetherness. Once in a while was tolerable, but he was sure something awful would happen with so many people in close proximity. Someone would make a comment he couldn't tolerate, or he would push someone's buttons as he had with Bruce over a month ago.

Life was predictable. He was suspicious of predictable.

He stopped short when he saw Natasha sitting on the couch brushing James' hair. James was sitting on the floor in front of her, shirtless, feet bare, wearing only plain gray sweatpants. He had his head tilted back into her slightly, eyes closed as she brought the brush methodically through his long hair. She was focused on him, lips curling at the corners slightly, dressed in her usual loose yoga pants and tank top. Peaceful music was playing in the background, something meant to be soothing that actually grated on Loki's nerves.

"You can come in, Loki." Natasha didn't take her eyes or hands off of James' hair.

"This is... serene."

Natasha chuckled and finally looked up at him. "Not a fan of peaceful."

"Not particularly, no."

"But you see... We didn't have an ordinary life before. Lies and death and destruction. Having to hide everything to keep it safe."

James let his chin drop down and took the brush from Natasha. "It probably sounds stupid, but this was the dream I used to have. Just us, sitting together, not having to be anywhere, not having to do anything. Just being."

"Because you couldn't."

"Right. The things that civvies take for granted. I never thought I could have it."

"And I'm interrupting."

James shrugged as Natasha shook her head. "It's okay. This isn't special time for just the two of us or anything. I'd tell you if it was," Natasha told him.

Loki couldn't sense any artifice in her tone. And on this, she would be telling the truth, because she absolutely would set limits on his behavior if he became insufferable.

Moving to the couch, he sat beside Natasha, his shoulders slumping a little. "The deaths that Sam had mentioned yesterday," he began slowly, waiting for her nod of remembrance. "I did know them. We actually talked. It... troubles me."

"That they would commit suicide?"

"They were not that kind. They practiced magical arts, actual magic and not the wishful thinking some of those on this realm would call magic."

He caught Natasha smirking at his words and realized how pompous he sounded. Well, no matter. It was truth, anyway.

"I know Sam is troubled by self harm. Those in this tower are as well. But sometimes spells do need life force to fuel them. Blood magic is unpredictable at times, but it is powerful. They were those kinds of practitioners, and we talked of magic. I had actually hoped they would discuss their form of magic with Wanda, since she is still technically my student."

Natasha frowned. "They hadn't seemed depressed before they killed themselves?"

"Last week, Henry told me he would look for the spellbook he received from his grandmother to help Wanda learn more."

"Suicidal people can still make plans," Natasha pointed out, though she sounded less certain.

"If it wasn't suicide," James said slowly, leaning against Natasha's leg to look up at Loki, "then was it murder?"

Loki furrowed his brows. "I know nothing of the particulars."

"Then perhaps we should try to find out," James offered. He looked over at Natasha. "You still have pull via SHIELD channels, don't you?"

"I'm sure I could ask. Local authorities might help just because we're Avengers."

Loki blinked. It almost sounded like she was including him. No, she must have been referring to just James. He was certainly no hero.

"I guess we'd better get dressed and look the part," James said, heaving a put upon sigh and getting to his feet. "C'mon, dollface," he drawled, holding a hand out to Natasha. "Time to put the professional masks back on."

There had been a time when she never took it off. Did she really take it off, or was he now able to peer behind the mask? Loki was almost too afraid of the answer to ask it.

***

Shopping with Pepper was an epic experience. She knew all the best stores in Manhattan, was generous with the sales clerks assigned to help her and her companions, and believed that price was no object in order to look good. "I do yoga, weird diets and tailored clothes," she told Darcy without an ounce of false modesty. "I didn't used to have this, but it's very nice that I can do this now. Did you think movie stars just magically looked perfect?"

"Well, no, but that's _movie stars,"_ Darcy said.

"Yes. And the rich and powerful aren't always so far away from movie stars, especially in the kind of world we live in." Pepper smiled brightly as the saleswoman returned with a new evening dress in white with lilac trim. "Oh, this is lovely. I was also thinking a few classic business suits for Darcy as a graduation gift. Skirts and pants both, given how cold it can be in winter."

Practically beaming at the thought of the commission she could make, the saleswoman eagerly looked over at Darcy, took her measurements and tried to discuss colors and fabric choices with her. Finally, Darcy threw up her hands in exasperation. "I do jeans and sweaters and five dollar tees from vintage stores, okay? I don't know the difference between pleats and seams or whatever it is. Make me look good and not slutty and I will say awesome things about you."

Pepper and Jane both laughed at the disgruntled expression on her face. "It's not like everyone knows all this right away."

"Easy for you to say," Darcy grumbled.

"Please. Before I worked for Tony Stark as his personal assistant, I was in three different companies in various permutations of secretary. I had to look professional yet still be invisible until I was needed. I am not going to pretend that taking over SI wasn't a freak accident of epic proportions, but it happened and I do a damn good job of it."

"Good thing Tony recognized your genius with marketing and business strategies. That saves him for the research and building," Jane said.

"Exactly. So I take advantage of the opportunities it gives me, like really expensive shoes and tailored suits," Pepper said with a grin. She took her phone out of her pocket; it must have been on vibrate mode, because Darcy hadn't heard a thing. "Speaking of which..." She tapped at her phone, then seemed to switch between a few different other screens before putting the phone away. "Of course, I'm also a workaholic and you have to peel my phones away from my hands even when I'm doing something fun."

At least she was honest about it, Darcy figured. It was so much better than some of the other Ph.D. candidates she'd had the misfortune of working with. A few had tried to pass off their success as something they hadn't worked for, as if she would be impressed by having everything gifted to them. What kind of idiot did they take her for?

Then again, most of them were in Washington, DC and one of them had been in her bed with Dickhead Dave, so maybe there was something to that.

Jane looped am arm through Darcy's as the saleswoman returned. "The science thing is my pet project. It went so well after the Lockheed Martin dinner, I thought it wasn't so bad. And the city kids need more funding for science classes. This is going to be great!"

"What grades are these kids going to be? Sixth? Definitely stick with single syllables," Darcy teased her. "Otherwise they won't understand a thing."

"Oh, the kids won't be there," Jane told her reassuringly. "Just the Board of Ed bigwigs and fundraiser types. I plan to talk about my dark matter research to bore them all to tears so I can get back to my lab and check the running calculations."

"You're not supposed to say that out loud," Pepper sighed. "I swear, Tony can be such a child and a horrible influence sometimes."

Darcy couldn't help but grin at Pepper. "If you've been scientist herding on your own for a while, no wonder you wanted help. All right, all right, I'll stop complaining. I'll start out in HR early, let you spend ridiculous amounts of money on me and hang out with Jane and Thor. Sounds like a great plan to me."

"That's the spirit!" Jane chortled as the saleswoman eagerly showed Darcy the suits she had pulled out. While she didn't usually like shopping, Jane loved spending time with her friends and trying to teach others. Having her at the benefit dinner would definitely decrease the potential boredom Darcy would feel there.

***

Randall Ward had been an elderly gentleman of mixed descent living in Bed-Stuy prior to his death. Police had ruled it a suicide when his body had been found the Monday prior to the group therapy session at the VA, but there had been no marks on the body. The supposition had been based on the lack of forced entry into his apartment and the fact that he was wearing a tank top that showed off the series of horizontal and vertical scars along his inner arms. "He could've been a cutter," Natasha remarked to the officer that had made the original report.

"He was a vet and on medication. What else am I gonna call it if I see someone looking like that?" the officer remarked.

Loki wished he could shake the man, but remained at Natasha's side. He had opted to remain invisible for this, citing Darcy's remark about him attempting to take over New York. How would police officers accept him asking after a dead veteran?

James had his tactical gear on, which was a shade of navy blue so dark it was nearly black. He left the strapped holsters and guns home, but kept the black gloves and boots with hidden sheaths on. His hair was carefully pulled back, and his bearing was that of a predator. The stare he leveled at the office was nearly malevolent. "So where's the body?"

"Medical examiner's office," the officer said. He was trying to appear tough rather than shaken, but Loki could see it in his eyes. "Why?"

"We need to examine the body," Natasha said.

Thankfully, their official looking uniforms even without weapons, meant that they were directly escorted to the medical examiner's office. The department was full of harried pathologists attempting to do their job and make reports. Natasha took the lead, charming her way through the layers of bureaucracy until they were standing in front of the drawer holding Randall Ward's body. Loki felt almost afraid in the chilled room. Would he look horrible in death? Would it be worse once they talked to the coroner?

Tuning out the coroner and the questions Natasha and James asked him, Loki stared down at Randall's body. He felt something painful in his chest, not quite like the remorse he'd felt for terrorizing Natasha, but still sharp and biting. Without realizing it, he reached out and pressed his hand against Randall's chest, beneath the Y incision that had already been stitched back up.

Nothing.

Dead bodies might have been empty of the life force that had been woven by the Norns, but there were always still residual traces of that life, especially if it was a magic user. The heart stopped, the brain waves were flatlined, but there were still some cells eking out an existence still. The bacteria in the gut still lived for some time after death, leading to the bloat and stink of decomposition associated with dead bodies.

_Everything was dead. There were no residual traces._

Loki yanked his hand away from Randall's chest and looked around him in horror. They had planned to start with Randall, then move on to Henry Fedozzi. But this _emptiness_ was disconcerting, and Loki could recognize a similar emptiness in front of another drawer. Ignoring the fact that he was still invisible, he yanked on it the same way the coroner had, and pulled the drawer open. There was the toe tag with Henry's name, the skin impossibly white and pale. He used to joke about the lack of sunlight and that it was a good thing for everyone that he didn't believe in Wicca – "Can you imagine me skyclad? Lordy, the poor people catching sight of me will go blind!" Loki felt the same pang in his chest that he had felt upon seeing Randall's sightless eyes and dulled skin.

There was the same emptiness in this corpse. All life force had been sucked out of it, with no traces whatsoever of the life that he should have had.

This was beyond _spá_ work. It wasn't just severing a lifeline, but completely obliterating it as if it had never existed.

Feeling stunned, Loki let the pathologists around him put the drawer back to rights, stepping out of their way so they wouldn't run into him.

A chill worked its way down his spine. What kind of being could do this?

The worst part of it was, he didn't know.

***  
***


	2. Bad Days

Loki crashed into the "office" of his suite, ripping through texts and scrolls that he had, looking for any mentions of something that could entirely devour someone's _spá._ Something like that had to be impossible.

Natasha followed him in, obviously worried about him, but he couldn't think of that now. If he did, if he stopped to think, then his agitation would grow into outright fear. What if that creature ever came after _her?_ The very thought of her death sent him into paroxysms of pain and loathing. Would he slit his own throat to follow her into death? Or would he try to storm the gates of Helheim to get her back? Could he even do it if he tried?

He didn't know, couldn't know, and it was best not to even try.

"Something weird happened," James observed.

"Dead. Dead-dead, nothing left, not even microbial life." Loki spoke without looking up, not taking his eyes off the text he was trying to skim through. He dropped it and reached for another one, using a thread of magic to bring another scroll closer. He muttered under his breath in Allspeak, ignoring the look that passed between Natasha and James. There had to be some kind of creature that could do this. A nightmare, a child's story, perhaps. There had to be _something,_ because for this to spontaneously happen to two people he had known, however distantly it might be—

"What if there are more, then?" Natasha asked, agile mind working. "Two dead bodies like that, both of whom you knew as magic users..."

Loki continued to mutter, so Natasha was the one to call out overhead for Jarvis to begin cross referencing odd deaths and "suicides" of people known to use or play at magic.

"Just in the United States? Or throughout the world?" Jarvis asked.

His head jerked up in surprise. "Why? Are there other deaths? It's not a local phenomena?"

"It may not be," Natasha said quietly. "You started your takeover here five years ago, but there were global steps taken to protect against threats like you afterward."

He hadn't known that. It didn't stroke his ego now that he was exiled here.

"Global, then," James decided. "And we'd better talk to the magic users out there that you know of. If someone or something is hunting them down? They need to know."

"I need to find out what did this. It isn't an ordinary spell," Loki said.

"And this room is a mess," Natasha said, looking around. Her expression clearly stated that she had no idea what his organizational style was and she didn't care to find out. "You have an apprentice. Isn't this the kind of thing that they're for?"

"I have her practicing the _seidr_ and giving substance to the spells she creates. She might not be ready for magicks such as these," Loki replied tartly.

"How do you know until you try?" she asked pointedly.

He sighed and threw the book in his hands across the room. "I haven't the temperament for this! I can't be a teacher. What was Frigga thinking?"

"That you need to learn patience," Natasha guessed. "And she could use your expertise."

Loki snorted. "Don't try to make me feel better."

She tolled her eyes at him. "Making you feel better would be initiating an extra session, not telling you to grow the fuck up and do the things you said you would."

He ignored the second part of her statement and looked at her eagerly. "Would you add another session for me? I'd like that."

Natasha threw up her hands. "Don't you know you can just ask by now? You don't have to be a little shit or worry yourself to death first."

"I'll have you know I'm not being either at the moment," Loki told her in a huffy tone of voice. "I do have concern of some creature draining magical energies, and that is entirely legitimate and appropriate. I just happen to like your sessions."

"Tonight, then. Eight o'clock," Natasha said with a shrug. She looked over at James, who gave a slight nod that he would be there as well.

Well, then. Something pleasant to look forward to. After she left, Loki went through his books with far more care. He still didn't find anything useful.

***

Loki knelt on the bedroom floor of the Astoria apartment, a black silk blindfold wrapped around his eyes, his hands bound behind him with the black chains. No shirt had been allowed, and he had to kneel with his knees slightly apart to keep his balance. He could feel the stretch in the heavy fabric over his thighs, the feel of his boots against his rear. There was the rustling of fabric somewhere near him, a soft susurrus that he couldn't identify. Was she undressing? Changing? Getting James ready for something?

By the Roots, would she make him service James? Fear and dread anticipation flooded through him at the thought, and he couldn't tell which was the stronger emotion. James wouldn't hurt him, not deliberately, anyway, and Natasha wouldn't allow permanent damage.

But oh, he was awful, awful. He was nothing, there was nothing, he needed to be ground down to dust and rebuilt again. Each time Natasha took him apart, she put him back together cleaner than when she found him. How she managed that trick, he had no idea. But she did it, he could hum with desire instead of anger, he didn't want to raze entire realms to ash.

Then her fingers were combing through his hair, soft and wavy as she liked it, nails scraping lightly across his scalp. A shiver worked its way down his spine, and Loki wondered if she was smiling in response. He responded to her, a finely tuned instrument, an object to work to her desires, a tool to use however she saw fit.

_Oh, please, let her see fit. Let her want me..._

Music began to play, a soothing jazzy tune that Loki wasn't familiar with. He could hear the slight clink and hiss of James' mechanical arm, wondered if he was starting to dance in time to the beat. It had to be his kind of music. Natasha liked classical music to soothe her when she was overwhelmed, and otherwise listened to an array of popular styles.

Her fingers dipped down to the nape of his neck, and it sent another shiver down his spine and arms. He bowed his head, giving her better access, and was rewarded with a kiss to the nape of his neck. There were no words, just the faint touches and press of her fingers, running her nails down his skin, nudges to get him into the position she wanted. Ultimately, his arms were still bound behind him, but he was bent over his knees, his forehead close to touching the floor, his body twisted in complete subservience.

Natasha licked down his spine, then pulled away from him. "Wait there," she said in a husky tone, as if he could do anything else.

Then he heard weight sinking down onto the bed, a soft sliding sound, then kissing. He wanted to choke; Natasha was kissing James on the bed, they were going to have sex while he waited there, bent in half and aching for her, make him sob in desperation, make him want any depraved thing she would ask of him, just to touch her, be touched by her, just be near her—

All he heard was kissing, hitched breathing as desire took hold. Nothing more salacious than that, not when he knew they could be rather... acrobatic. And noisy. And messy, with clothes strewn all around the room in their desperation to couple. This wasn't even frantic kissing, just a slow, steady exploration, soft noises and little breathy moans. They were teasing each other, and Loki was hard just picturing Natasha's kiss swollen lips.

When he could hear Natasha's moans a little more clearly, Loki knew that James must have moved away from her mouth. Perhaps her neck or breast. The rustle of fabric he next heard was likely the coverlet, and Loki's mouth went dry with want. He wanted to lick at her folds, wanted to taste her from the inside out. He wanted to curl his tongue inside her soaking slit, wanted to slide his fingers inside her, feeling her clench down as she cried out and arched up off of the bed, grabbing at his head to keep it in place. He wanted her calling his name, voice fracturing with the onslaught of pleasure, wanted her to know that he was more than enough to please her, that he would do anything for her.

Maybe he let out a choked noise of some kind, want choking him. A cold metal hand moved to rest on his back, and it was steady on his spine as he trembled. Still no words uttered, and he didn't want to be the first one to speak if Natasha didn't will it. He couldn't bear punishment today, not when he still didn't know what was happening around him, when the temptation to spin out of control was too great. He hadn't thought he could handle speaking to Wanda with his temper out of control, so he simply passed along a number of books for her reading list and a request through SHIELD to speak with Doctor Strange.

James must have been kneeling on the floor near Loki, to keep a hand on him and still touch or kiss Natasha. He thought it must be licking into her, if he had to guess by the sound, and his gut tightened. Why couldn't he participate? Why couldn't he touch her? Was Natasha unhappy with him? Had he done something wrong? He was terrible, she knew that, she knew how to control it, knew how to keep him in check, and—

The metal fingers curled along his spine and moved down, not quite scratching at him. It was odd having James do this petting motion, as if he wanted to soothe Loki's addled nerves the way Natasha usually did. She was definitely on the receiving end of something good, to judge by the sound of her fracturing breath and gasps. It was quiet, the hushed sounds she usually made when not forcing herself to be loud for Loki's sake.

He tried to block out the sound of it next, as it was too agitating to think of her flushed skin and moans as something from James. He was jealous, dammit, she knew that, knew how easily wound up this would make him.

Unless that was the point? Oh, she could be cruel indeed. And oh, how he loved her for it.

There was the throaty moan as she came, and the sound of her flopping backward onto the bed to try to catch her breath. He wanted to shout at her, wanted to demand to know why she was being so inflexible when he needed her. But then James tugged on his bound arms and shifted him over, forcing him to hobble over until he was positioned where James wanted him. Still no words, nothing but nudges and positioning him just so, then a push at the back of his head to indicate that he should move forward.

Loki could smell her arousal and desire, and it set his mouth watering. Another nudge forward, and then his mouth was right there, right where he wanted to be, and all he had to please her with were his lips and tongue. He did so, devouring her flesh, laving at her generously, licking as deeply into her as he could go, his nose bumping into her clit and making her sigh happily at the attention. She had one leg hooked over his shoulder, heel against his spine, ensuring that he couldn't move too far away from her if he was so inclined. Her other leg was somewhere else, not on his body, and he guessed that she had her heel up on the bed and leg frogged out, opening herself wide to him. Her fingers weren't in his hair, so her hands had to be busy. Maybe she was fondling her own breasts, maybe she was fondling James. It didn't sound as though her moans were muffled, so she wasn't kissing him or sucking on his cock.

But now that he had his mouth on her, he didn't care if she was sucking him off, if she was bringing him the same ecstasy he was giving her. In this moment, he could share. He could afford to be magnanimous, he could be generous and even friendly. Loki had his own part of Natasha, had something he could give her. It went without saying that he could use magic on her, that he could make her come without even lifting a finger. But where was the challenge in that? And she so rarely wanted him using magic on her when she was commanding him, he didn't even think to use it now.

So she could lie back and fondle James, could smile and bat her eyelashes prettily at him, red hair spread out beneath her head. She could give him that if Loki still had part of her that belonged to him. There was still what he could give her, what he could control. In this, he was confident. In this, he never doubted himself, ever. Natasha had never faked anything while in his bed, and there was no need for her to ever start.

And without her saying a word, Loki could feel himself settle into his own skin. Yes, he was a monster and always would be. But he was clever and useful, he had a place here, and he would figure out whatever puzzle presented itself to him.

By the time Natasha came with a guttural cry of pleasure, Loki grinned and settled in to do it again. It didn't even matter that his own cock was aching and weeping, that he wanted so badly to sink into her and feel her slick heat. He was a master at this one task she set for him, and he could do it under any conditions.

Loki was even certain he could carry over that confidence to other tasks. And what was magic but confidence and will made manifest?

***

Steve was starting to rethink this idea of training with James even on his bad days.

He likely hadn't discussed the off days he sometimes had with Natasha, Steve was willing to bet, and wondered why he hadn't, either. Natasha had been far more approachable lately, maybe because he knew now that she had forgiven him his lapses in judgment. It wouldn't exactly be tattling on James, but it sort of felt that way, too.

So here he was, getting his face pounded with the metal hand, and James carried a knife in his right hand, slashing viciously at Steve. The blank look in his eyes was the most frightening part of this particular session, as if no one was home and it was strictly programming that he was falling back on for the sparring. Calling out James or Bucky hadn't gotten rid of that blank stare in his eyes, which was sending chills through him.

Feinting right, Steve whirled around and clocked James on the jaw, sending him staggering backward. James shook himself out, then his gaze settled back on Steve. It wasn't quite as empty as before, but it still was disconcerting to see.

"Sorry, Buck," Steve apologized, holding his hands up in surrender.

James stood, shoulders hunched forward a little, knife and fist and his sides. It seemed almost like he was contemplating whether or not to accept it. The disconcerting chill was building, just shy of being abject fear.

Then suddenly James nodded and stood, tossing the knife aside. "Yeah. Happens."

"Wanna tell me what happened there?"

"No."

His tone was so sharp and cold, distant, a stranger's voice. Steve wanted to rush forward and shake him, as if he could knock Bucky loose. But that would be the wrong thing to do, probably only trigger more things to flood his mind. They had vaguely alluded to lost memories before, the myriad missions he was forced to do. _He was supposed to change history,_ Steve thought, taking in the aggressive stance. _He was nothing more than a weapon to them, something to use however they saw fit._ And he didn't even want to imagine what they might have done to him in the pursuit of that.

"Are we done for today, then?" Steve asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

James wasn't looking at him, was angled away but not quite with his back to Steve. It was a bad day, then, when he was more a mass of programming and triggers than his old friend and Natasha's lover. It hurt to see this and not be able to do anything about it.

"Buck?"

He whipped around, and there was something fierce and angry in his eyes. "Not today, Steve. I can't do any more today."

"Yeah, that's fine," Steve said, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension in them. James ignored the movement and started stalking toward the door to the gym. "Hey. You're coming with me to the top deck later when Sif arrives, right? You said you wanted to meet her."

At Steve's words, James paused, but he didn't turn to face him. "That was today? I don't... Today isn't a good day. I can't do any more today."

"What _can_ you do today, then?"

He turned, jaw set. "Don't, Steve. Just... don't." His fists were clenched at his sides, eyes sparking with anger. Steve hated that he was the source of that anger, but that was better than the empty stare, wasn't it? The anger at least grounded James in the present.

"I want to help. I don't know how."

"Let's hear it for Captain America," James said, an angry and sarcastic edge to his voice.

Steve blew out a breath, inhaled slowly, blew it out again. James was doing the same across the room from him. "Does it make you feel better to sock me in the jaw?"

"No."

"What's going on in there? What _can_ you tell me?"

James snapped his gaze to Steve, still angry. "I remember being ordered to kill Howling Commandoes. To kill you if you were ever found and you lived like I did. You were an enemy, Steve. I was the Asset, I was part of Department X. And anything soft, they took it away and destroyed it. Or had me do it."

"That's not who you are."

"You sure, Steve? You _really_ sure?"

"I'd stake my life on it," he replied immediately.

James shot him a sour look. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he snapped before stalking out of the gym.

He wasn't there in the penthouse when Sif and Thor returned from Asgard.

***

Natasha had been absolutely right, and it was time for Wanda to become more aware of magicks that had deadly potential. She had absorbed spells and many tricks from Frigga, and Loki was definitely teaching her by his own questionable example. Her eyes shone at the sight of his office, and it made Loki think that maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to have a partner in magic after all. She was thirsty for knowledge, for understanding the forces that she was learning to control. She had a wicked sense of humor when she unleashed it and didn't worry over what he thought of her, or if she would make him angry.

It was odd. Was Wanda potentially a friend? Loki was sure that Sam would think so.

He asked Natasha to accompany him and Wanda as they met with mages SHIELD contacted regularly. While he was nominally an employee and Natasha was also just a consultant, the mages wouldn't know that. Plus, if he emotionally went off the rails and thought about killing the mortal fool that angered him, having Natasha present would remind him that this wasn't about killing magic users. Well, not directly. _He_ wasn't supposed to kill magic users. He was supposed to track down whatever creatures were killing them, and teaching Wanda that there were actual uses for these skills that she had. Perhaps she would work with SHIELD, perhaps she would work with the Avengers. It would ultimately be her choice, at least.

Doctor Strange wasn't responding to inquiries, so Natasha had looked to Marissa Tourney. She wasn't a frequent advisor for SHIELD, and had little reason to work with Loki after he had harassed her three years ago for one of Amora's rings of power. The woman still lived in a posh TriBeCa apartment. She had the appearance of a petite woman approaching middle age, some white streaked in her elegantly done black hair. It was cropped to shoulder length, a subtle permed wave added to give a little weight to the fine strands that otherwise were stick straight. She had brown almond shaped eyes and a flare to the base of her nose that hinted at an Asian heritage, but her skin was pale and she wore fine jewelry and tailored clothing.

She agreed to meet Natasha, Loki and Wanda in a public place, so Natasha picked Washington Square Park. "Plenty of witnesses and escape routes if it comes to that," she had offered to Marissa. It might have been unnecessary, but the bench Marissa was sitting at was close to the subway entrance.

Her eyes flicked over the three of them in surprise. "You don't appear to be so..." Marissa's voice trailed off as she tried to think of the appropriate word for Loki.

"Murderous?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well, yes," Marissa replied, clearly disconcerted that he would be so blasé about his prior behavior with her. Natasha had been solicitous in the past, and she didn't know anything about Wanda aside from her youthful appearance.

Rather than wear the scarlet Asgardian robes or something skimpy, Wanda had taken on a more streetwise look. She was still in red and black; she wore clunky black boots with silver buckles, black tights, a bright red skirt, black shirt and black leather jacket. She had scarlet nail polish on, heavy kohl rings around her eyes, bright red lipstick and left her dark hair loose. She had merely grinned at Loki's put upon sigh when leaving the tower, and also smiled merrily at Marissa's uncertain expression in her direction.

"I was unduly influenced by several artifacts, one of which I had taken from you," Loki said, shrugging as if her discomfort didn't matter. "I am no longer under its influence."

"But likely no less murderous," Marissa retorted.

"Given the proper circumstances, perhaps," Loki acknowledged. He grinned at her, all teeth and fever bright eyes, making her back up on the bench a bit.

"Knock it off," Natasha snapped at him.

"Who's this?" Marissa asked, looking at Wanda when Loki wasn't introducing her.

Wanda took it upon herself to do introductions, and Marissa contemplated that for a moment, gaze turned inward. "You are difficult to classify, based on the kinds of mages I've worked with before," she said finally. "Obviously a park is no place to learn magic."

"There's your home," Loki pointed out.

She glared at him. "Where you are not welcome. I will take Wanda to a different location, and we'll see if it's a good fit. If not, maybe I can make recommendations."

"Doctor Strange isn't returning messages from SHIELD," Natasha informed her.

"I don't think he's in this dimension right now," Marissa told her. "He's the Sorcerer Supreme, he has duties to fulfill."

Wanda blinked at Marissa's matter of fact tone. "That sounds impressive."

The older woman smiled faintly at her. "The responsibilities are far more than what I want to handle. And I'm guessing more than what you want to handle."

"I just want to learn more right now," Wanda replied honestly. "I've been on Asgard with the Queen and her handmaidens, and now I'm here."

"Rather eclectic mode of study," Marissa commented, rising to her feet. Her smile was kinder when she saw Wanda's anxiety. "It's how it usually is. You find someone to teach you, and by word of mouth, knowledge grows. The community is rather close knit, if you can find it. I can help you steer through the waters here."

"Loki's teaching me magic, too."

Loki was rather surprised that Wanda stuck up for him, though it didn't show on his face. It did make Marissa pause to look at him critically. "Hm. I suppose you are different than before. You're still not welcome."

He shrugged as if it didn't matter, but it did sting his ego. He didn't bother to watch Wanda leave with Marissa, turning his back to indicate that it wasn't important to him. Natasha watched, eyes tracking everything, arms crossed comfortably in front of her chest as she remained seated on the bench. She ultimately nodded at it beside her. "She's got a cell phone and you've taught her to play dirty. I'm sure Marissa won't do anything to her."

"I wasn't worried about it," he lied.

Natasha snorted and leaned back a little. "So you're off the hook for a little while."

"Something doesn't feel right, still. The deaths of those veterans. Doctor Strange yet again on a different dimension. I feel... unsettled, I suppose."

"Is it truly something to do with magic, or because you don't have a purpose?"

Loki scowled at her, not wanting to admit that she might have a point.

"We have nowhere to be, and it's a lovely day today." She folded her hands over her stomach and looked out across the park. "Unless you'd rather spend it indoors." Loki was about to ask what she meant when her lips curled in that private, sensual way he adored. "In Astoria."

"Yes. Now." He raised a hand to create a portal in front of them when she sharply shook her head. "But—"

"Anticipation, Loki. There is such a thing as savoring the anticipation for a thing."

Or dreading a thing, but that sometimes amounted to the same emotion.

He smiled, insides starting to churn. "Then lead the way."

***  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'll be able to post next week because I'll be leaving on vacation ridiculously early on Wednesday. Yes, the story will continue, as will the rest of the series. I'll pick back up in July once I'm back and settled in at home again. :)


	3. Ownership

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected free time today, so hey, have some smut. I definitely won't be posting next week, and we'll see if I've recovered enough from vacation to restart on Tuesday after that. :)

The glamour covering Natasha and Loki as they descended into the West fourth street subway station was fairly unnecessary, but he insisted on it. "There are those that prefer to assault me," Loki admitted. "They tell me so all the time in Wednesday meetings."

He sounded so glum about it that Natasha took his hand and pulled him aside before they even got to the turnstiles to present their MetroCards. "Hey. That bothers you, doesn't it?"

Loki was wearing a Hispanic face, his hair shorter and close cropped. It was odd to hear his accented voice out of that face, and made her wonder what appearance he had given her. "I don't wish this realm harm. I didn't really, even when I was here years ago. I truly didn't want to raze it to the ground. Just rule it."

"And every war has casualties," she replied in a neutral tone of voice.

"Exactly."

"How did you expect a conquered people to behave when they saw you?"

"With due deference, of course," he replied without thinking.

"And now that you've been among us, fought with us, learned about us... How accurate is that kind of thinking?"

Loki at least had the grace to look abashed. "You were supposed to be backward boors."

Natasha merely smirked at him and pulled away from him so she could head toward the turnstiles. "Surprise."

With a sigh, he followed her and actually acted like an ordinary New Yorker using the subway system to get uptown and into Queens. At this time of day, the subway car wasn't too busy, so they both got seats in the corner. Natasha ducked her head close to his. "It's not Marissa that's bothering you," she observed. "Not really."

"Two practitioners of earth magic die, all trace of life snuffed out. Odd feelings while working spells..." At her look of confusion, Loki gestured between them. "This is simple _seidr._ An illusion spell. It should feel seamless."

"It does to me."

He shook his head sharply. "No. The illusion isn't settling in right. There's something odd about it, and that troubles me. My gifts are not hampered. Wanda has her skill to develop. But it's as if something is interfering with magic on this world."

"Then maybe instead of a session, you should be visiting one of your hideaways on Yggdrasil and test magic there."

His breath faltered and he shook his head. "The calm you give me would be best right now."

Taking his hand in hers, Natasha gave it a squeeze. "Because then we have time together again, just us two. You miss that, when it was just the two of us."

"I get jealous of him. But I'm not at the same time. He doesn't seek to monopolize your affections the way I do. It doesn't hurt him to know I care for you. That I love you."

"It doesn't," Natasha agreed. "He knows how he feels about me, how I feel about him. It's not something that's going to change just because you're part of my life now."

The words seemed to settle some of his agitation. When did this stop being such a prickly dance for her? Was it on Asgard or after she got back from being on the run? Natasha couldn't tell, but Loki had definitely gotten easier for her to read and respond to. She didn't feel as though she was trying quite so hard, or that she had to hide her motives from him.

Maybe that was it. Because there really weren't lies between them. There really weren't tensions she had to balance. There was no accounting to keep any longer.

They were silent as they left the subway and walked toward the apartment building. Loki didn't drop the illusions until they were inside the apartment, alarms in place and armed once more. It was surprising for Natasha to see the vulnerable expression on his face.

"Loki," she murmured, reaching up to touch his face. His breath caught as her fingertips brushed against his cheek. "What is it?"

"I don't feel good. I don't feel right. I don't... I don't understand it. I've pushed myself past this feeling for some time now, but now that I'm here with you..."

"You don't have to," Natasha completed for him. He nodded, and reached out to rest a hand on her hip. His touch was light, hesitant, nothing like the demanding figure he tended to be.

"Is it because of James being with me? Or nearly losing me to the Red Room?"

Loki pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She was wearing flats, so her head tucked neatly underneath his chin. That seemed to soothe him a bit. "I don't know. Maybe. I told you I get jealous of him. I can't lose you. I won't lose you."

Natasha thought of all the other variations of this statement through the years, the different ways he had shown how unstable he was without her. His behavior had quieted and become less erratic, but it all came down to what she thought of him, what their relationship was. If she ever walked away and thought the trouble wasn't worth it anymore...

Letting out a soft, sighing breath, Natasha patted his chest. "You won't lose me, Loki." He would have to be an even bigger piece of shit to force her to cut ties with him, if only because of her fears for New York and the rest of the world. But also, she recognized the lost feelings he had. She understood how his mind worked, scarily enough. She knew how to handle him when no one else really could. Of anyone, she could pull him back from the brink and get him back on track again. She had even done it when he was under the influence of Amora's rings.

Patting his chest, she pushed back until he let go of her. "We're going to begin now, Loki."

He licked his lips as he nodded, anticipation and need causing his pupils to blow wide open. "Yes, Natasha," he murmured, reverence in his tone.

"Get into the bedroom and strip naked. Fold your clothes and put them on the dresser."

Natasha watched him turn and do as she told him without question. She went to the kitchen for a glass of water and decided to put a few ice cubes in the glass in case she opted for temperature play. There wasn't much as provisions in the apartment, given that they usually weren't there for meals, but snacks and easily prepared things that didn't need refrigeration were stored. She opened a bag of pretzels and munched on a handful to give Loki enough time to undress. It wasn't likely that he would try to push her by disobeying.

And indeed he hadn't. He stood with his back to the door, proof of his trust in her not to harm him when vulnerable. It was a fairly relaxed stance, hair hanging loose and nearly to his shoulders now. That reminded her of James, and that she should probably offer to cut his hair if it got in his way. Obviously, he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it.

She stepped forward and put the glass down on top of his clothes in lieu of a coaster. She slid her hands across his back, admiring the way he stayed in the relaxed pose. "I want you to conjure a long black ribbon on the bed," she said, voice husky yet forceful. "I'm going to tie you up. After that, you don't use your magic again until I say you can."

The shiver rolling through him at her words was clearly anticipation. Natasha saw his cock stir, and a little smile quirked her lips. Oh, yes, she was very much in charge today.

Loki didn't even need to wave his hands in order to create a coil of black ribbon about two inches wide. He stepped forward at the push against his back, her unspoken command to move forward, toward the bed. Taking the ribbon coil, Natasha set about to winding it around him, starting with his right ankle. A loose knot held it in place, then she moved up his leg to his groin, around his torso, then to his right arm. "On the bed, all fours," she murmured, but he responded as quickly as if she had shouted. Once he was in position, she brought the ribbon from his right wrist to his left, then started to wind it around his left arm. This time, she did a loop up to loosely bring his hair away from his neck in a ponytail before winding it back down over his torso again. The coil still unrolled more ribbon, making her smirk at him. "You set this to be as long as I needed, didn't you?" she remarked.

"Yes," he replied, voice slightly raspy even though his breathing was even. "If that was to be my only spell, I wanted to make it count."

Natasha bent down and pressed her lips against an exposed bit of skin along his spine. "Mmm. So thoughtful, Loki. So good." Moving her hand across his back, she reached beneath him to stroke his cock. "You're going to be a good boy for me today, aren't you?"

"Yes," he whispered, his eyes sliding shut.

Lightly scratching his balls with a nail, Natasha smiled against his back. "Good. Keep doing that, and you'll have such delicious rewards."

"Please," he whispered, hips tilting to give her better access.

"For right now, just feel what I'm doing. I don't even want to hear you speak unless I specifically ask you a question."

Natasha ran her nails along the ribbon, then the skin exposed between bands of ribbon. She was silent at first, listening to the ragged breathing as Loki struggled to retain his position and not writhe or arch his back like a cat. This was a chaos godlike figure, she reminded herself. Trickster. It was an apt codename for SHIELD, just as hers was. People died because of her, of their association with her, or died at her hand. A tangled web of associations surrounded her. she was complicated, even when trying to keep things simple.

Loki let out a ragged groan when her fingers brushed against the small of his back. Soft padding at her fingertips, then nails, then back again. Ribbon then bare flesh. Then, though he obviously wanted to protest, she retrieved her glass from the dresser. His back was flat enough to keep the glass steady after she drank the melted ice water, and she watched him suppress a shiver at the cold on his back.

"Good," she murmured. She could likely patronize him further if she said "good boy," but it felt wrong here. She wasn't doing age play, wasn't interested in wading through that minefield of issues. He called her a darling girl or pet, but that didn't feel right for her either.

"Darling," she said, voice dropping into a husky tone, and he made a strangled noise of desire. There. That would be it. Just darling or his name, no diminuitives or pet names. This wasn't meant to be demeaning, after all. He might feel humiliated later, but she understood what he was after much better than he did, understood his pet names for her during play as his need for domination and affection in equal measure.

Of anyone, she knew how important words were.

"You're being so good for me," Natasha continued, her voice like liquid sex. The ice was cold as she took it out of the glass, likely colder still against the sensitized skin of his back. "You can talk if you need to, Loki. You're being good for me, no other thoughts than me."

"Never," he gasped. "Natasha," he added, a pleading note to his voice. "I want to come."

"When I say," she reminded him. Her hand at his hip felt the tremors as he struggled to rein himself in. "Obey, Loki. You know I reward you when you do."

"I'm trying."

"And you try so hard," Natasha crooned, moving the melting ice cube. "You can be so good for me, darling Loki."

His hair hid his face from her view, just as it had the first time he had been in this position for her. This time, she knew his body better. She knew his responses, knew his needs.

"I want to be—" he choked.

Dipping the ice cube down to his ass, Natasha nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "You want to be good for me. You want to be worthy."

Another choked sobbing sound, though she wasn't sure if it was her words or the ice cube at the puckered entrance to his ass.

"Loki," she purred, swirling the ice cube in place and running her nails along the bare skin of his hip. "You can be so good for me. _Fascinating._ Or frustrating."

"I can't help it. It's in my nature."

"Chaos personified."

 _"Yes,"_ he groaned, and Natasha pressed her lips to his hip as she shifted her hand to caress his stomach as the ice cube moved to his thigh.

"And you want me to limit you. To control you," she purred, moving the ice cube to the base of his cock. "To _own_ you."

Loki hissed. "You don't own me..."

"Don't lie," Natasha said sharply, raking her nails down a stripe of bare skin. For good measure, she did it again. "Lying means I have to punish you. That you _aren't_ being good, and you know one of the worst things you can do here is lie to me."

"You _don't_ own me," Loki insisted, anger in his tone.

Natasha dropped the ice cube and reached over to yank his hair, snapping his head back. "You were being so good a moment ago. I suppose I've been too lax with you." Her stern tone made his cock twitch. "You want to be. But then out comes the chaos. Out comes the behavior that destroys everything you want." She yanked harder on his hair and spanked him with the flat of her hand. "Lying gets you nowhere with me, Loki. You know I don't tolerate that bullshit in here," she said, punctuating her words with spanks. His breath hitched, but he was steady, the glass on his back not even moving.

He hadn't planned on provoking her, that was clear, but she couldn't let it go unchallenged. There was no literal bill of sale, of course, but in this apartment, in these sessions, he belonged to her.

Leaving the bed, she returned with the belt from his pile of clothing from the dresser. "You still have lessons to learn, Loki," she told him sternly. "This is for your own good. So you can obey me, so I can reward you, so you can be whole and worthy."

"I'm trying!" he wailed.

The challenge to her authority must have been an instinctual reaction before slipping toward subspace. She would simply have to help him the rest of the way.

"When you submit to me, there are no challenges, no worries, no pain. I take care of you, don't I?" she asked.

"Yes, Natasha."

"Obedience, Loki. Freedom in obedience."

"Yes, Natasha," he whispered.

"Who do you belong to?"

He paused. "To me."

"Wrong answer," Natasha replied in chilly tones. "Count them out, Loki. Ten strokes."

"No, I don't want them!" Loki wailed, shaking his head. It jostled the glass a little, but it remained in place. Not bad, given she'd never expressly mentioned it.

"Count them. Don't miss, or I'll have to start over."

He wailed like a frustrated child, at first refusing to count out the strikes from the belt. It was folded over to prevent any cuts from the leather edges, the buckled closed inside her fist. It wasn't until the eighth stroke that he started counting, but he did do it properly.

She dropped the belt and then kissed the rising welts gently. "Oh, Loki," she murmured, reaching for the ice. "Why do you fight me so hard?"

Loki whimpered and sniffled, his hair covering his face from her view. It was likely a blotchy mess from crying during the belt strikes. "My nature. I am broken still. I always will be. I am _argr,_ aren't I?"

She chuckled gently and applied ice to the welts, soothing them. "No, Loki. You're spoiled. There's a difference. You're a spoiled prince that never really had to work for anything. Studying doesn't count, you like that even as it frustrates you. But as prince, you didn't have to really earn anything. You didn't really fight, didn't struggle to survive. You had no limits and believed yourself superior to all others."

"It was true," Loki sniffled.

Natasha licked a welt once the ice completely melted. "No, it wasn't. Propaganda and lies. You know that. You were a prince, and you were spoiled, and you didn't know how to deal with pain. That's why you hate Thor. That's why you fight. That's why you lie. If others can feel a fraction of your hurt and misery, you won't feel so alone."

Loki's breath hitched as if he was going to cry again. "Oh, how you despise me."

"No."

"Or pity me."

"No."

"Why not?" he cried, turning his head slightly. He couldn't really see her, not with her mouth at the welts on his ass. "Why don't you hate me if I hate myself?"

"Because you don't know any better. You never learned how. You don't understand mercy or kindness or grace as we do because you've never head to learn it. But you've started to, haven't you? That's why you help Sam, why you went with him and Clint and Steve to Japan. It's why you help Maria now as the Trickster."

"That's boredom."

"That's your search for redemption. That's you trying to balance your own ledger."

And it suddenly clicked for him, because the tension bled right out of his limbs. "Oh," he whispered, tone reverent and hushed, as if this was a sacred space. "That's why it doesn't hurt as badly now."

"That's why," Natasha agreed. She kissed a welt, already mostly healed. "And it's easier to obey me, isn't it? Hard sometimes, but not as much as it used to be."

"I think," Loki began, voice warbling with emotion, "that it always will."

"Probably. But that's why I'm here. That's why we do this. I take you down when you go too far. I tell you the truth you don't want to hear."

"You've never lied to me," he agreed, "not really."

"Anything I lied about wasn't intentional."

"And you don't _want_ to hurt me."

"No," Natasha agreed, "I don't." She licked a stripe where a welt used to be, watching him shiver in delight. There. Dropping down nicely into subspace, calm and not jittery. "I discipline you if you need it, but I never hurt you for no reason."

"You care for me," Loki said, his voice taking on that almost-slurred cadence she was looking for. The sound of it made her smile.

"Yes," Natasha murmured, licking again. "I do."

She even meant it, and they both knew it.

Loki sighed happily, limbs loose and pliant beneath her hands. "Then yes, I am yours. You do own me."

"Of course I do," she chuckled, bringing her hands to his ass cheeks. "Never forget that."

Before he could answer, she dipped her tongue down to the puckered entrance to his ass and began to lick. He gave a strangled groan of pleasure, tilting his hips just slightly so her face wouldn't be mashed so hard against him.

Natasha rimmed him in earnest, licking him loose enough to get the tip of her tongue inside him, to have his cock wet and weeping onto the bed. "I could make you come like this, couldn't I?" she asked, resting her jaw and tongue a moment. Loki only groaned, incoherent already. "I own this ass, Loki. I could fuck it any way I want, give you such pleasure. You'll take what I give you, love it, crave it, want more." He groaned as she spoke, a low, throaty sound that shot straight to her own groin. Damn, her nipples were probably hard, because her bra was feeling too constricting and irritating.

She pulled back to strip off her clothes carelessly. Taking the glass, she drank the melted contents again and put the glass aside. Going for the lube, she coated her fingers liberally and then slid one inside easily. Loki eagerly tilted his hips for her, a throaty moan indicating his approval of this plan.

"What a greedy little ass you have," Natasha said, smiling in amusement. She slipped another finger inside him, setting him to keening. "How many fingers will I get to feed you?" He was too gone to answer, and she had to repress the urge to giggle. Who would've thought it would come to this?

Stroking him from the inside out, Natasha hummed contently as he moaned wantonly. She curled her fingers, hooking them to rube his prostate. He keened, throwing his head back.

"Don't come," she commanded. "Can't end the fun too soon, Loki."

"Can't," he howled, a fine tremor in his body.

"Of course you can. You're mine, Loki. Do you really think I would choose someone incapable of my little requests?"

Loki panted, tremors growing in amplitude. He made an attempt at speech, but it was still garbled due to his moans. Natasha slid her free hand up and down a thigh, grounding him, then moved it along his spine.

"You're doing well," she crooned, blowing her breath along his hip. "Hold on for me." Her fingers pressed up against his prostate, sending him to keening again. "You can do it, Loki. Focus on me, on my voice, on what I want for you. I want this, Loki. I want you to hold back until I tell you. You want me happy, don't you?" she wheedled, curling her fingers slightly.

"Y-y-yes," Loki stammered. He groaned, long and throaty, and his moan almost sounded like he was saying "Please."

"Please what?"

"Wanna... come," he gasped. "P-please..."

"A little longer," Natasha replied, moving her free hand around to stroke his stomach. "Be good for me, darling," she crooned, running her fingernails along his skin. Loki shuddered, breath stuttering. He was hanging on by a thread, slender and fragile, trying to follow her command. It was obvious he far gone into subspace, no will of his own but for what she wanted of him, no thought or worry.

"Come for me," Natasha said, bent over him, mouth near his ribs.

Loki groaned and released his hold, his entire body grown lax as he came, shooting onto the bed.

She let him collapse and roll onto his back. He didn't care about being in the wet spot, instead looking at her nudity with undisguised interest and appreciation. Natasha knelt beside him, skimming her hands over his beribboned flesh. "I'm not through with you yet."

He grinned at her, lips stretched wide and lazy, eyes dancing in delight. "Oh. Oh," he murmured as her hand closed over his soft cock. "I love you."

"I know."

"I adore you."

"Of course you do."

"I'd do anything for you."

"As well you should."

Loki's soft smile widened, and he chuckled. "So sure of yourself," he said, voice still slurry.

Natasha straddled him, then leaned forward, propping herself up over him, hands on either side of his head. "Entirely deserved."

"Yes, it is."

"You please me, Loki."

His breath caught, eyes wide. "Natasha."

He had put his arms over his head when she rolled him onto his back, and she brought them down to the juncture of her thigh. Loki caught the hint immediately and began to finger her. Natasha gave him an encouraging smile as he shifted his hands enough to slide a finger from one hand inside her slit and the other kept rubbing at her clit. Her soft moans egged him on, and Natasha could feel his cock twitch behind her.

Maintaining eye contact with him, Natasha smiled and murmured how good his touch felt, how much she wanted to ride his cock, how he was being so good for her. His eyes shone with utter adoration, his clever fingers working her just as she liked it. He continued even after she came, until she shook with a second orgasm.

"Get harder," she groaned. "I wanna fuck you. I want you inside me. I want your cock in me when I come."

Loki groaned, biting his lip. "Magic? I'm close to ready, but..."

"Magic," Natasha agreed, teeth bared in a feral grin.

The spell was like warmth shooting between her legs, and his cock behind her hardened. She lifted her hips and reached between them to guide his cock inside her. Loki moaned a little at the sensation as Natasha let out a pleased sigh.

She rode him hard, throaty groans erupting as she threw her head back. "Fuck yes," she moaned. "That's good, right there. Don't you dare come until I tell you. I'm gonna fuck hard. Fuck," she moaned. "Gimme this. Gimme what I want."

"Always," Loki promised, eagerly reaching for her clit again. He rubbed at it as she continued to move, hard and fast, and had an almost feral grin on his face as she came, clenching down hard on his cock and groaning.

"You can make the ribbon go away. And come, if you need to," Natasha added as she fell forward on top of him. The ribbon disappeared, and his arms encircled her, holding her tightly.

"I love you," he murmured softly.

Natasha nuzzled his neck and pressed her lips against it in a kiss. She couldn't answer in kind, he knew that, and she wouldn't lie to him in this state.

"Thank you for that gift," she said instead.

He was pleased that she valued his love, even if she didn't feel the same. He would take what he could get, and she would give what she could. It was the best that they could do.

***

"You were gone a long time," James remarked when Natasha returned to the Tower. Natasha shrugged, not bothering to say anything, making him sigh. "You don't trust me after all."

"No, James. Never that. Loki and I had a session, is all."

"Didn't want me there?" he asked, concerned.

"He needed time alone." At his amused expression, Natasha rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. He and I, without you. Just like I'm sure we need to set aside time that's just us two, no Loki. I don't want to lose _us_ in the shuffle."

"You won't lose me," he promised.

"I don't want to take that chance," Natasha murmured.

James pulled her into his embrace. "I love you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. As far back as I can remember, I've loved you."

"Isn't that _my_ line?" she teased.

"Naw." He kissed her soundly on the mouth. "You don't have to feel bad on my account."

"This isn't the Red Room. It's not Department X. You have a choice. You can tell me no if you don't like it."

James drew in a breath. "Natalia, you have choices, too. We all do, and it's..."

"Overwhelming?" Natasha guessed. He nodded, and she held him tightly. She ran her hands down his back in a possessive gesture, which soothed him. "It was like that for me, too, at first."

"So how'd you get over it?"

"I went slow," she said. "Try to figure out what _I_ liked, not just as a cover identity. I made little choices each day, then from little ones to big ones. It's a question of practice, really."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan of practice."

Natasha had to laugh. "I remember that. Almost always making you angry about all the practice sessions I needed in training."

James' eyes flickered. "I remember. I remember too many things now. What they wanted me to forget, what they had me do..." She could feel the tremors in his body, and tightened her hold on him. "God, Natalia, _I remember."_

Because PTSD wasn't just an issue with remembering, it was an issue with being incapable of forgetting, too.

"The therapist I've seen isn't bad," Natasha began slowly. "But the treatment for this is talking it out. Putting the stories back together in context."

"I _know_ the stories. I can't fucking forget them!"

"Because of what Zola did," Natasha said softly. "I've thought about it, after Steve's theory of why they had to wipe you so often. You wouldn't willingly do what they asked of you. They had to empty your mind."

James nodded sharply, unhappy and tense.

"They did it so often because you kept coming back," Natasha said softly. "You have a version of the serum, James. It was trying to fix the brain damage they kept giving you. You were remembering because you were healing."

The look of horror on his face hurt to see, but it had to be said.

"So more are gonna come back," he rasped.

"I think so. It's random, good and bad, because it will depend on what damage gets reversed. I'll be here with you, but..."

"I did you wrong, too," James said, looking away in shame.

"At Department X's behest," she said quickly.

"I wish I could make it up to you. Erase it somehow."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "We erase it bit by bit, then. Starting with this. Let me cut this off."

"And what? Look like a soldier?" he scoffed.

"Look like James Buchanan Barnes," she corrected. "Look like Bucky. Like my James. Like whoever you want to be."

"And if I don't know?"

"Then we'll figure it out together."

James sighed and shook his head. "Look... I don't know how to do this. Almost seventy years, I wasn't a person. I had no identity. You can't expect me to know how to do this."

Natasha looked at him with a sad expression. "Because you're comfortable with orders."

"Yes. No." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I don't know. That's the point, Natalia. Some days are good. I'm a person, I know what I'm doing, I can get by. Other days are bad ones. I'm the Asset. I'm playing at humanity, but I'm biding my time."

Cradling his face in her hands, Natasha searched his expression. "If I was your handler," she began slowly.

"Natalia, don't. Don't. I've seen you broken, run ragged. I can't do that to you. I can't let you do this for me."

"Of course I will, James. I meant it. I'll help however I can, whatever you need, until the bad days aren't so frequent." She leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow. "It doesn't have to be like it is for Loki. I don't have to hit you or demean you. You just need orders, right?"

"It makes it easier to cope," he hedged.

"I can give orders for all kinds of things. You can clean my guns, sharpen my knives, scrub my bathroom floors..." They both laughed at that, and Natasha pulled him in for another kiss. "I would _never_ ask anything dangerous or difficult, James. Never. You have never been the Asset to me."

"I know," he said softly, smiling gently. "On good days, I remember that. It keeps me going."

"And today is a good day," she guessed.

"Today is a good day."

"Then let's go out. Something stupid, like a dirty water hot dog and sitting in Central Park."

James shot her a goofy grin. "I like the sound of that. Just us two, nowhere to be."

"Exactly. And we'll walk through the park, be back in time for yoga with Bruce."

He nodded. "Okay. But first, you're cutting my hair. Short, like when I first enlisted."

Natasha grinned. "I can do that."

It was indeed a good day.

***  
***


	4. Dinner And Dancing

Benefit dinners were generally full of polite schmoozing among socialites, politicians, prominent businessmen and whatever staff was necessary to make such events go smoothly. Darcy Lewis might have been newly hired on into Stark Industries' HR department, but she was in no way deluding herself into thinking she was important enough at SI to have to attend. However, it being a benefit for the NYC Board of Education and their science department, Jane Foster was attending with Thor. She requested that Bruce attend, but he bowed out to run some kind of experiment on Wanda's magical ability. Jane then requested to have Darcy along, and Pepper was happy enough to oblige. She was attending with Tony Stark, and they managed to get Steve Rogers to agree to go with Sif as well. With Clint along as Darcy's date for the evening, half of the Avengers were present.

"So... Not intimidating at all," Darcy began soon after introductions with Clint. She was wearing a silver and black evening dress that managed to make her chest look somewhat less impressive than it generally was. Clint must have gotten the memo about her dress even though Natasha had been busy with Loki and James and doing God only knew what with them for the past few days or so. Wanda had said something about Loki investigating deaths and being unconscionably rude to local magic users.

"You mean being with all the powerful people in New York?" Clint asked, eyebrow raised. He was in a black suit and white dress shirt, but all the accents on the suit were in silver. They looked very coordinated to be on a first date.

Wait, was this even a date? Both had been voluntold to attend the dinner. Remembering how pleased Natasha had been with Darcy and her irritated announcements about relationships and sex and men in general, she had to assume that she was.

"I guess? I mean, what would I even say? I don't belong at a place like this."

Clint merely smiled at her, and Darcy blinked at the way it transformed his features. Not that he wasn't handsome before, but this time it was directed at _her,_ and she couldn't remember how to breathe for a moment.

"Follow my lead. Think about it as being undercover. You're not Darcy Lewis, SI HR employee tonight. You're going to be Darcy Lewis, spy extraordinaire."

"Oh, come on. Me as a spy?" she scoffed, though she grinned at him. The idea was just ridiculous, she didn't know how to do that kind of thing.

"It's a matter of listening and saying the things that the other people want you to say. You'd be surprised what they let slip, especially if you act like you belong here. Wanna make a bet that you can get some pretty good gossip?"

"Is this how you make dinners like this interesting?" Darcy asked suspiciously.

"Absolutely," Clint replied immediately. He grinned at her again, and she had to laugh and shake her head a little. "C'mon. It'll make the time go faster until we get to the actual dinner part. Then the speeches. Don't forget the speeches. Dinners like this always have lots of speeches."

"I think Jane has to make one."

"I rest my case," Clint said, gesturing toward her. "Well?"

She paused, then nodded. "Okay, you're on. But I'm a total noob at this, and you have like, years of experience and ooze charm."

He snorted. "Please. I'm a sniper, that's where I'm most comfortable. You, you're social. You'll be able to get more fun details than I will."

Darcy shook her head. "And what constitutes fun gossip anyway?"

"We'll compare notes at the end of the night, how's that? We'll agree on what's good or fun."

It didn't seem entirely fair, but she was good at getting people to talk and this wasn't exactly a romantic date anyway. She shrugged, accepting the challenge, and the two were either together or on their own to chat up the other guests during the cocktail hour. Feeling as though she had a secret and was monitoring the boring politicians in the room did make her feel a little superior, and it kept her awake and attentive. Which was probably the point, but it worked, so she wasn't about to feel mad about it.

Jane and a few others had speeches during dinner, most of which Darcy tuned out. Science was important, blah, blah, blah, kids needed to learn more, blah, blah, blah, labs and funding and teachers were vital for the future of education in STEM and especially for girls. It was everything Darcy knew from spending time with Jane and doing her Ph.D. thesis, so that was deadly dull for her. Clint didn't seem to be paying attention either, and was frequently looking around the room in a nonchalant manner. The motion was too practiced, too casually bored and apathetic to be real, so Darcy had the feeling that they were being used as bait. Still, the food was good, and Clint wasn't above cracking jokes to keep her entertained.

All in all, the evening flew by quickly. Once she stopped thinking about the fact that she was at the same table as Avengers and started thinking of Clint as the guy she having dinner with, her nerves fell away. She even teasingly applauded the fact that he was no longer officially a jackbooted thug, and that he obviously had good taste in music if he enjoyed the playlists she had on her Ipod. It started with music, then conversation gravitated to movies and science fiction, then segued into science itself and how ridiculous politicians could be in suddenly changing standards in schools and testing kids every few months rather than letting kids learn as they developed. "I may have been listening to Jane rant about it over Skype every once in a while," Darcy said with a laugh. "She takes her sciencing very, very seriously."

Clint grinned. "I may have noticed that, yes. So what do _you_ take seriously?"

Darcy actually thought about that. "I don't know that I've found it yet. I fell into poli sci because it was interesting and I didn't like sociology enough to stick with the major. Most English professors I had were blowhards trying to hawk their books. I'm not a fan of physics or bio or that kind of thing, and I'm hardly an artist. Editing photos on Photoshop is a little beyond me sometimes, but if you don't care that it's obviously cropped, I'm your girl."

"And now you work in Human Resources."

"A fancy way of saying I'm a people person and the one that they yell at if they're fired."

"Pretty much. Hasn't there been anything that really drives you? Makes you want to get up in the morning because you feel alive?"

"I don't think I've loved _anything_ that much. What about you?"

"It's probably really trite, but I do love archery. I'd do it even if it wasn't my thing with SHIELD and then the Avengers. There's power in it, the motion of the string on the bow, the way the arrow moves through the air, hits the target..."

Darcy quirked her lips into a half smile. "You describe it in a very zen kind of way."

"I suppose it _is_ a meditation for me."

"And you really love your arrows, don't you?"

Clint laughed, and it was then that she decided that she really liked the sound of it. They had similar senses of humor, but the real laughter and not the polite or mocking laughs got to her. He was fun to be around, and wasn't simply a soulless body behind a badge.

"I'm sorry I called you a jackbooted thug."

"Why?" he asked, shrugging. "I was one. I was following orders that day. I don't always, not if they don't make sense, but that day I was."

"And now?"

He shrugged. "Coming with you today was a not-so-gentle suggestion. Tasha thinks I've been spending too much downtime playing Assassin's Creed."

"Aren't you like, an assassin for real? Why would you want to play that?"

"Have you ever played?" She shook her head. "It's fun. You live in the Tower now, right? Come on over sometime and we'll play. The graphics are really good, and we'll just ignore the storyline outside of the assassining bits."

"You mean there's an actual plot to them?"

"Of course there is. But I play the game just like everybody else does: so I can get lost in it for a little while and not think. Because as much as I love what I do, that I know there's a purpose for it, some days are still hard to take. It's nice to zone out and be somebody else for a while."

"Huh. Makes being yelled at in HR a cakewalk." Darcy paused. "Your job is really dangerous."

"Yeah, it is."

"But you love it," she observed.

He grinned again, eyes crinkling in joy. "Yeah. I'm nuts that way."

"It takes all kinds," Darcy teased, shaking her head a little. But she leaned into him when they hugged good night, and his soft kiss made her toes curl inside her shoes.

***

While Clint and Darcy went on a second date, Natasha grinned at James as she straightened out his tie. He was in a fitted suit and light blue shirt, thin black gloves over his hands to mask the metal hand. She was in a tight violet sheath dress, throat bare and amethyst earrings dangling down from her ears. Her hair was up in a twist, ringlets tumbling down artfully from the carefully placed jeweled pins she had gotten in Asgard. She wore the gauntlets that had been gold plated, so they looked like linked cuff bracelets. Loki had gone off in a sulk when he had seen her dressed this way, knowing that there were no plans with him included, and she hoped that he was at least going to use the time to teach Wanda more magic. Natasha had caught her in the common areas several times levitating items, a distant look on her face and a red glow about her fingers as they twisted and curled in the air. It was more than just _seidr,_ but Natasha didn't know anything about magic other than the cloying feel of it against her skin.

"A date," James said for perhaps the fifth time. "Like ordinary people."

"We can do it."

"If I get a flashback—"

"Then we'll leave."

James sighed. "When you got all dolled up for me?"

"If you like what you see here, you'll love what's underneath the dress."

He perked up at the sultry tone of her voice. "You sure do know how to motivate a fella."

Natasha only laughed and patted his chest. "I might have an ulterior motive tonight."

"Of course you do," he said, eyebrow lofted. "Do I get to know what it is?"

"Maybe. You'll probably figure it out once we get there."

It turned out that Steve and Sif were going on a double date with Thor and Jane in the Upper West Side, Pepper and Tony were flying to Malibu for a few days, Bruce was corresponding with Dr. Selvig and tentatively with Dr. Betty Ross, and Loki and Wanda were the only ones that would be left in the Tower.

"So you made sure he'd teach her out of boredom?" James asked, eyebrow raised.

"That's part of it," she said with a smile. They made their way to Carnegie Hall. "An added bonus, really. Do you mind being my arm candy for the evening?"

James laughed heartily, a genuine sound that warmed Natasha. "Doll face, I'm at your beck and call. You know that."

"Yes, James, I do." Her smile curled through her lips, eyelids dropping slightly. It was meant to remind him of her bedroom and the promises she had made, and the way he swallowed before looking away told her that he got the hint loud and clear.

He liked the concert and the walk through the area, seeing street level Manhattan lit up and glowing. The restaurant Natasha picked for dinner was off the tourist's path, the ground floor of a brownstone with wide steps and antique furnishings. "Pulling out all the stops?" he teased.

"For you? Of course I would."

They didn't talk much over dinner, just smiling at each other and occasionally touching their fingers. He grinned when she lifted her foot out of her shoe to brush it along the inside of his ankle, a smirk on her lips. It was silly, getting such a thrill out of this, but Natasha couldn't help it. This was the life they'd never been able to lead before, the quiet and sensual moments that they used to whisper about.

Someday was here, and she wanted to cling to every second of it.

"So who are we watching?" he asked during the second course, making her laugh. "What? I do notice you looking around at more than just me."

"Take a guess."

Leaning back in his chair, James took stock of the dining area. There were only two other couples there, the busboy occasionally coming around with the pitcher of water, and there was a single waitress with dark shadows under her eyes. The couples seemed rather bland, ordinary Upper West Siders out for a Thursday night dinner. He dismissed them easily. The busboy was moving easily, and had an open, honest face. James dismissed him, too. That left their waitress, her dark hair pulled back from her face, the shadows under her eyes poorly concealed by makeup and the dim lighting. Her dusky skin seemed a little sallow, and she wore long sleeves under the embroidered apron that was her uniform. Her movements were stiff when she thought no one was looking.

"What'd she do?" James asked, flicking his eyes toward the waitress.

Natasha smiled, eyes dancing in amusement. She had catalogued is observations, though his expression had remained impassive. "Not her. It's who she lives with."

"Taking on a job for SHIELD, then? I didn't think you had anything active for them."

"I don't. It's something I noticed when I was out on a run a while ago. I'm thinking... I have free time. More than I know what to do with, and just working out or sleeping with you doesn't feel like enough. No offense, James."

He snickered. "Takes a lot more than that to destroy my ego."

"I noticed," she replied in droll tones, making him laugh. "But I'm thinking... SHIELD is only saving me for things that can be public. But maybe, even with my face plastered all over the news when I work with the Avengers, I can still do the work I'm good at. I can go behind the scenes, fix the problems that others don't see."

"How can I help?"

Natasha grinned, her entire being lighting up. "I think I love you, James Buchanan Barnes."

"Of course you do," he answered, smiling just as wide as she did. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. "So we'll fall back, follow her, see what's going on in the homestead. You got some tricks up that sleeveless dress?"

"I was only planning on recon tonight."

"You've been itching to do more. I'm with you. Let's make a move tonight."

After dinner, they loitered in the area until the end of the waitress' shift. She walked with a slow pace and hunched shoulders, not looking forward to going home. But she had nowhere else to go, and finally let herself into a tall apartment building where the neighborhood started transitioning into Spanish Harlem. Natasha and James stood out in this area, but neither particularly cared about that at the moment. Whatever gangbanger that tried to attack them would regret it soon enough.

She checked the signal for the tracking device that she had attached to their waitress' sleeve when she had paid the check. "Fifth floor," she reported, looking at James from her left wristlet.

"What are you looking for?"

"I think her boyfriend is the one putting the bad drugs out on the street. The one that killed seven people in the past three days." She shrugged at his inquisitive stare. "I do get out of the Tower, and not just to be Loki's domme."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Okay, I was."

"There was a girl at the Rockefeller subway stop," she said quietly. "She played the clarinet to make some cash. She told me she lived up this way, and I'd toss her a few dollars whenever I saw her. She disappeared, and her face was one of the ones on the police blotter."

James sighed and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Can't save them all."

"I know. It won't stop me from trying."

"One of the many things I love about you, Natalia," James murmured. "Okay. You have your bites and line. I have my fists and the knife at my waist. How do you want to do this?"

"We're not quite in gang territory, but you never know. It could be worse than I think it is."

"Well... Knowing us, that dress and this suit would've been toast anyway. So we go in, take it all down, stop this guy from dealing, find the bigger fish he works with. That the plan?"

"Pretty much," she agreed.

"Let's go bust some heads."

They walked into the building as if they owned it, moving straight up to the waitress' apartment in the building. This floor had graffiti and slash marks in the walls from knife fights, shabby, stained carpeting and a few apartments whose doors didn't even close or lock properly. The signal from the waitress was halfway down the hall, and James grinned at her playful gesture for him to go first. Rap music blared from inside the apartment, and his metal hand banging on the door to get their attention barely registered. The waitress wasn't the one that answered the door, but a muscular young man wearing a blue bandanna on his head, low slung oversize jeans and an undershirt stained with blood. "Who da fuck are you?" he growled, raking bloodshot eyes over James' formal clothes. He caught sight of Natasha in her dress nearby. "This is new. Jamal send you over, then? You must be desperate to come here."

James lifted him by his throat with his metal hand and smiled cheerfully at him. "Why don't you tell me everything about this business proposition of yours?"

The bloodstains belonged to the waitress, Gina. She hadn't handed over all of her tips from the evening, and he hadn't been particularly happy about it. The man wasn't a boyfriend but her older brother, and their parents were long dead from drug overdoses. They had been abusive before, and Gina's brother simply took over where they left off. He didn't reveal who he was working for until James broke all of his fingers, one at a time, and with Gina's grim approval. Afterward, he threatened to beat Gina worse than before, or that he would have his friends take turns with her for this betrayal.

Natasha had James' knife against his throat then. "What do you want to do?" she asked Gina.

"If he ain't dead, I won't ever get away," Gina told them gravely. "But even if he's dead, I won't be safe. His boys know me."

"If we could move you somewhere?" James asked as Natasha glared down at Gina's brother.

"Then do what you need to do. But your dress..."

"I'll be fine," Natasha said. Her hand moved swiftly enough that he fell to the floor and she was able to stand and step back before the blood spilled. "Let's get your things and get you settled somewhere safe." Her mind whirred; no need to get the Avengers involved in her activities, since they were more like side projects. Loki had bought the building the Astoria apartment was in, and there were at least one or two empty ones that Gina could stay in. She smiled gently at Gina, who stared at her in shock. "It's all right. We'll take care of everything."

"Why?" she blurted, looking from Natasha to James and then back again. No fear, just startled curiosity. It was obvious the two of them could have harmed her if they wanted to.

"Because someone has to," Natasha said quietly.

Later, after Gina was tucked away in Astoria, she hugged James tightly. "Thank you. Little girls shouldn't be left to die in alleys or made to do terrible things to survive."

He kissed her forehead reverently. "So let's be their guardian angels."

It probably quieted his memories of being the Asset. She knew it helped quiet her own guilt.

It was James' idea to simply go upstairs to the hideaway apartment. "You don't have to tell me what to do, that's not the point of this. But why head back to the Tower? I don't feel like sitting on the subway again."

"You have a point," Natasha allowed. "And if we're feeling really lazy, there's always calling Loki to create a portal in the morning."

Up the stairs and past the wards, they fell into each others' arms right away. "You're amazing," James said against her lips as he lifted her into a kiss. "For all that's happened, somehow you still have it in you to be kind."

"I don't necessarily think of myself as kind," she said against his mouth as she unbuttoned his shirt. "Killing isn't a kindness."

"Sometimes it can be. But I meant finding a place for Gina. Not leaving her behind once you got the information you wanted."

"Is that kind? I've uprooted her life and put her somewhere else. She doesn't know if she can even go back to her job. I've upset everything and possibly put her in harm's way."

"But you'll stop these drug dealers. Keep other kids from dying. She knows that, she's not dumb." He unzipped her dress and spun her around to drop kisses onto her shoulder. "You didn't have to help her here. Just like you don't have to help faceless kids from drug dealers that kill them with tainted shit."

"I can't just leave them to die..."

"That's the difference between you and the handlers we once had," he said, pushing her dress off of her body. His breath caught when he realized she was wearing nothing but thigh high stockings beneath the dress. "Oh, you naughty girl."

Natasha laughed and spun around to loop her arms around his neck. "You like?"

"Hell yeah," he growled, then seized her mouth in another kiss.

He backed her up against the wall of the apartment, lifting one of her legs up to his waist to caress her calf and thigh. His tongue in her mouth, he smiled as she wound her arms around his neck and stroked his tongue with hers. It was a dance, sensual and graceful, and he let his hand fall from his thigh to her open center. Brushing the red curls aside, he found her slit easily and slipped two fingers inside. She was already damp to his touch, and pumping his fingers inside her brought more moisture. He used that to rub her clit, making her gasp against his mouth and arch up against him.

"I'm still wearing pants," he said against her mouth, liking the feel of her fingers brushing against the skin of his back. He couldn't feel anything but pressure against the metal arm, but he imagined it to be a soft caress, just like against his other shoulder.

"Fix that," she replied, and the metal hand ripped through fabric until it was in tatters around his ankles on the floor. She laughed as he toed off the expensive dress shoes, leaving him wearing nothing in his socks. "I see we match, then."

He laughed along with her, then kissed her again. There were two fingers inside her, his thumb at her clit, all moving in a relentless rhythm that made her gasp and shiver. James had to grab her hip with his metal hand, though he was careful not to squeeze too hard. Too many blood vessels in the hip, too many nerves. He was very aware of how much damage he could do to her, even accidentally, though Natasha had always said she trusted him and didn't care about the metal arm. He remembered her kissing his metal palm, touching the plates, telling him to hold still so she could fuck herself on his fingers.

Then she was coming apart in his arms, and he was rock hard from wanting her. He wrapped his metal arm around her and lifted her from the wall, his fingers still inside her, thumb still moving against her clit in a steady rhythm. Natasha moaned and clutched at his shoulders as he turned and walked toward the couch. He laid her down as gently as he could, kneeling on the floor beside her so he could mouth and suckle a breast as he continued to work her body with his fingers. She panted softly, fingers threading through his hair, and he could hear fractured Russian endearments falling from her lips. James moved from one breast to the other, his bare chest rubbing the wet peak and making her mewl in pleasure.

"Your mouth, too," she gasped after a while, her entire body thrumming with tension as she bucked up against his hand.

It was easy enough to oblige her when he liked that, too. Falling back to his haunches, James shifted his hand between her legs so he could thrust his fingers inside her as he licked at her clit, making her moan in earnest. Natasha grabbed the back of his head to keep him from moving away, not that he had any intention of doing so. He laved at her flesh, swirling the tip of his tongue over the clit at intervals, savoring the sound of her gasps and moans. She keened when he sucked on her clit as he thrust hard with his fingers and curled them up into her, stretching and filling her. The sensation was enough to get her coming, squeezing tightly on his fingers and moaning loudly. The sound would have gotten them into trouble back in the day.

James pulled back and made a show of licking his fingers. Her eyes were blown wide, lips swollen from kisses and biting it. Grinning, he rose up and lifted one of her legs high and pressed it to the side of the couch. He finally guided his cock to her entrance and slid in slowly, torturing them both, until he was fully seated inside of her. Her breath caught, and she reached for him. James stayed just out of reach, grinning in a taunting manner now, and started to slowly move in and out of her. It was agonizing, especially when he wanted to slam into her over and over again until he made her nearly scream, until his vision whited out from the pleasure. But no, he still moved slowly, steadily, until she was starting to snarl at him to get it over with already, move it now, _make me come._

At that point, he moved the way he wanted to, until her cries were incoherent and he skated right over the edge into orgasm before he meant to. Still he moved, gritting his teeth so hard that he thought his teeth would crack.

"You did, didn't you?" she gasped, trying to hitch her hips up higher. "You don't feel the same."

"Yeah," he admitted, finally slowing down.

He laughed at her playful pout, then pulled her to standing. His come would drip if she stayed that way, but he swept her up into his arms and brought her into the bedroom. Loki had put some kind of spellwork into the entire room so that things didn't stain and it was easier to clean. James had missed most of the explanation, and it didn't matter anyway.

Natasha shook her head when he laid her gently down on the bed. "Not what I'm in the mood for right now," she purred, moving to rest on all fours. She wiggled her rear at him, laughing. "Get ready and let me finish."

"Two isn't enough?" he teased, taking his cock in hand and pulling roughly to try to work himself hard enough to penetrate her again.

"When was it ever?" she teased him back.

"Never," James laughed.

It took a while, and she was impatient enough to reach between her legs to finger her own clit, chest heaving as she panted. James recognized the sound of it, knew she was close to coming, but he wasn't quite ready enough yet. He didn't ask her to wait, and thrust into her as the orgasm hit her. She was slick and tight, perfect, and her groan of pleasure hit him all the way down to his balls. _Yes,_ he thought dizzily, grasping her hips and fucking into her with reckless abandon. Grunting with the effort, he kept going until he felt her tighten again. At that point, he pulled out despite her protests and nudged her to move onto her back. She made a moue at him and reached down for her clit again, but he batted her hand away. Without a word, he spread her legs wide enough for his hips and thrust into her, hard and fast, never breaking eye contact.

 _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ he thought, seeing her buck and squirm beneath him. He wanted to watch her come, wanted to see her skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat, wanted her near incoherent.

Afterward, spent and sweaty, tangled together in dirty sheets, James allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. Maybe they were sociopaths by ordinary convention, but this was a good day. He had been himself, had a date with Natasha and did something good for the city.

This was a good day, and that had to count for something.

***  
***


	5. Relationships

Darcy was utterly thrilled at how her evening was going. Clint had taken her to an upscale restaurant at Lincoln Center, then a ballet coordinated by Julliard's graduating class. It was more enjoyable than she had thought it would be, and they strolled down Broadway with Starbucks in hand, talking about the show. She didn't even notice when they reached Midtown and Avengers Tower, and they stood outside for another ten minutes before heading in, still talking about the dancers and the story as outlined in the program. She kind of wished she had put on frillier underwear once they were making out in his suite, but odds were good it wouldn't matter anyway once it landed on the floor. Though, that wasn't fair to him. He was a genuinely good guy to her, and she found herself pulling back a little once she found herself rubbing her breasts against his chest. "Uh. Normally I'm not quite this shameless. Sure, all the magazines say you're supposed to have sex on the third date, but that's just stupid. I didn't expecting it that night. Or any of the dates after that one. Not even tonight, promise." She thought about her ordinary underwear and managed to suppress a sigh. "Really."

"No, it's okay," Clint said gently, taking Darcy's hand in his. "This is fine."

"You don't think it's weird? I mean, eventually, I'm sure I'll jump your bones and rock your world, but you know that you're the rebound guy? It's only fair that you know that."

He laughed. "Natasha told me, yeah. But don't worry about it. I don't want anything more than this from you. So really, it's okay."

Darcy frowned at him and bit her lip, not noticing the lipstick that rubbed onto her teeth. "You don't want more? What does that even mean?"

"I'm not interested in sex."

She blinked. "Am I not good enough or something?" Now she wasn't sure if she should feel offended or not. It wasn't as if she was _looking_ or anything, but it was utterly mortifying and she would have to see him just about every day in the Tower.

God, this was embarrassing.

"No, no, no, not like that. I mean, I'm not interested in sex full stop. It's not you. I'm not interested in _anyone_ like that."

"Uh. What? Really? Are you sure? You mentioned some exes..."

"Yeah, and one in particular left me for just that reason. I mean, I tried, back before I figured out I was asexual. We thought my sex drive was just way, way lower than hers. We split up and she started going out with a merc she was working with at the time. I think they even got married before they divorced and did the whole complicated on/off thing." Clint shrugged. "Obviously, I can do it, the physiology works. It just doesn't do anything for me."

"Oh." Darcy sat there for a moment, wrapping her brain around that concept. It oddly made her feel better, possibly because it really _wasn't_ about her. "So you don't like it at all."

"Nope. I like the dating part," Clint said, lips curling into a smile. "And the kissing."

"I noticed _that_ part," Darcy replied with a saucy grin. "That's what got me turned on in the first place."

He pulled her into his arms. "And I am awesome at cuddling."

Threading her arms around him, Darcy gave him a soft smile. "I like that."

Clint pulled her down for a kiss, all soft lips and a tangle of tongues that left her breathless. "If you need me to, we can have sex."

"But you don't like it."

"But you do."

Darcy frowned. "I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do..."

"It's a relationship, Darce. It would be for you."

"That..." She sighed. "I suppose it's kinda flattering, that you'd do it for my sake even if it's something that really doesn't do it for you. But I feel kinda icky, too, like I'm forcing you into it, and I can't do that to you, Clint. I like you too much for that."

It took her a moment to parse what she had said when he shot her a goofy grin. "You do, huh?"

She smacked his arm lightly. "Not how I meant to say it, Clint."

"Well, I like you, too."

"I like you- like you."

"Are we in high school?" Clint teased.

"I'm on a rebound, even if Dave was a dick. I'm not gonna use a real L word until I'm absolutely sure I mean it."

"One of your best traits," Clint murmured, bringing her down for another kiss. "Your honesty."

Darcy was breathless after that kiss, her blood singing so loudly her ears rang with it. "I totally don't get how this doesn't turn you on."

"Think of it this way..." Clint leaned back and took away her glasses, ignoring her "Hey!" of protest. "You notice when these are gone."

"Well, sure. I can't see a damn thing."

"That's what it's like for you to not have sex in a relationship."

"O-kaaay," Darcy said, drawing out the syllable as she tried to see where he was going with it. She snatched her glasses back and put them on.

"Now, do you care if you put your hair up or leave it down?"

"Well, no. I never do much with my hair."

"That's what it's like for me. I can take it or leave it. Leave it, mostly. Just doesn't matter to me."

Darcy bit her lip. "So what? Like, I'd have to hump your leg like a dog or something? Because that seems just silly."

Clint laughed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I love dogs."

She smacked him playfully. "No, that does _not_ make me feel better!"

At least she was laughing, though. This entire conversation was surreal, and it was hard to imagine that she was actually sober for this. And discussing sex. Or lack thereof. Then again, the whole thing with Dave started because both were very, very drunk and very, very horny. There hadn't been actual feelings involved.

"Or, if masturbation or me getting you off isn't enough, you'd look elsewhere."

Her stomach plummeted at his matter of fact tone, and she was sure her shock showed on her face. He caught up her hands in his, but she could barely feel it.

Shit, this was a little more than a rebound thing for her then. Dammit.

"I mean," Clint continued, obviously concerned by her distress, "that you would just do some kind of random pickup when you're that horny. Not that we break up. I'd be okay with that if that's what you need."

She pulled her hands away and found them shaking. "I can't believe you're telling me to cheat on you just because I get horny."

He sighed. "It's not cheating if I know about it. It's called polyamory."

"I know what that is, I'm on the internet all the damn time!" Darcy hissed. "But it still feels like cheating to me! I can't do that to you!"

Clint wrapped his arms around her. Usually that felt pretty good, but at the moment, she was actually trembling and upset. Stupid adrenaline. "Darcy. I'm trying to figure out a compromise that will make this work. Because I don't want you upset by this someday. I don't want you to leave just because of the fact I don't like sex. I like you, Darcy. I really like you. I want this to work out."

"Jesus, Clint. That bitch," Darcy snarled. "I am going to tase her ass into the next century for leaving you that way. There is more to life than sex."

"Or, believe it or not, there's Loki."

Darcy pulled back and looked at him in disbelief. "The hell?"

"Some kind of spell thing," Clint clarified. He took a look at her expression and started to laugh. "Did you think I was going to tell you to fuck Loki?"

"Sounded like it!"

He laughed even harder. "Oh my god, have you not been paying attention? He's so far gone on Natasha, the rest of the world doesn't even exist."

She pouted and poked his chest. "I kinda was distracted by some muscly archer dude. Can't imagine why that is, he can be such an asshole."

"Well, yeah. Part of the charm, right?"

She snickered. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"Better than not having it."

"I suppose. Your ex is still a bitch."

Clint shrugged. "I made peace with it years ago. It doesn't bother me."

"I can still tase her, right?"

"If you really feel the need to," he replied, shrugging again. Putting his arms her, he squeezed a little. "But it's okay, really. I'm more concerned about you."

"And I'm not cheating on you just because I get horny. Please. Give me _some_ credit, here. I have self control."

"Hey, people do random hookups all the time."

"I'm not one of them, thank you very much." Darcy tilted her head forward and leaned her forehead against his, her smile more like a grimace. "Can we get back to the kissing, though? Because that part was really good."

"Sure. And you can absolutely hump my leg anytime."

Darcy smacked his arm and got off his lap. "Humph. And just for that, I'm not kissing you."

"You're kinda depriving yourself too, you know," he pointed out in a reasonable tone.

"I told you, I have self control. I can do without your kisses."

That lasted almost three whole days.

***

Natasha found Clint at the range at their usual time and smiled as she fell into the lane beside his, her box of throwing knives already on the table. "You have been seeing a lot of Darcy," she said without preamble. "I approve, by the way."

"Not that I need it," he replied, reaching for an arrow from his quiver, "but thanks."

"Well, she seems very level headed, and Jane always had great things to say about her."

"Jane's her friend," Clint reminded him.

"And not blind to any potential faults."

"True."

"Just as we're not blind to each others'," she added.

Clint snorted and turned back to his target to fire. "If we were, we would never be able to do our jobs," he replied. "Don't think I haven't noticed you taking off at random times from the Tower to do God knows what in the City."

"You don't think I'm doing SHIELD work?"

"If you are, that's not all you're doing."

Natasha threw two knives dead center at her target, weighing what she would tell him. "I might be doing some vigilante work," she said finally.

"I could help you, you know. Do you need an archer?"

"I've got it. I can do this alone."

"Yeah, but you don't _have to._ Kind of the point of having friends, remember?"

It had been a very hard lesson for her to learn, and she really _wasn't_ capable of doing everything on her own. Maybe she should be, maybe she shouldn't. There was no coming down and saying for certain which lifestyle was better.

It was easy to choose which was lonelier.

"It's dinky stuff. Drug dealers in Spanish Harlem and the Upper East Side."

"Hm... Plenty of those to go around, you know."

"I was doing recon for a while. I accidentally got James helping me one night."

"Accidentally," Clint said, amusement in his tone. "Gee, honey," he began in a horrible falsetto, "I have to go beat up some big, bad drug dealers. Hold my purse."

Natasha snorted and smacked his arm. "You're not funny."

"Of course I am. I'm hilarious. And will happily help you beat on thugs if you let me know where and when you're heading out."

Clint looked as though he had gotten lessons from Steve on how to put together the overeager puppy face, but it worked for him, too. She simply laughed and nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll let you know about that. Could be fun."

"Definitely would be, and you know it."

For a time, he simply fired off arrows and she threw her knives. It was companionable silence, not even broken when James arrived to do his own knife throwing and Steve showed up for pistol training. "Looks like the gang's all here," Steve remarked.

"All the ones that signed up for range time, anyway," James said. Of course he would have paid attention to who signed up for range time, and of course he would still refuse to hold a pistol when he was anywhere near the others. Knives and garrotes and fists were fine, but not a projectile weapon he was meant to use when sent after them.

Steve was about to say something else when the temperature in part of the room dropped precipitously and the air seemed to shimmer. Natasha rolled her eyes in that general direction and continued with her knife throwing. James and Clint eyed her questioningly, but she remained silent and worked on her aim.

The portal was poorly formed compared to the ones Loki usually made, though after a moment it was clear why. Space and time parted, revealing a red haze. The haze thinned a little, like the skin of a drum stretched tight, before the center seemed to thin even further. A hole eventually formed, but it was perhaps the size of a grapefruit. Wanda's face was on the other side of it, her eye makeup smeared, a frustrated expression on her face.

"You've reached the correct location," Loki said somewhere behind Wanda.

"I can't get it open further."

Loki blew out an irritated breath. "I suppose it's still an achievement in getting this far," he said, his voice indicating that he didn't believe it was an achievement at all.

As soon as Wanda let out a frustrated growl, her concentration slipped and the attempt at a portal slammed shut with a _pop!_ of displaced air.

"This place is weird," James remarked.

Steve shook his head and picked up his pistol. "Yup. Still, that almost feels normal."

They continued with their target practice, making a competition out of it. Natasha and James were tied in first place by the end of it, not that it was any particular surprise. Hungry, Clint suggested snacks afterward. They ate in companionable silence, and studiously ignored the other scarlet portal attempt that showed up in the kitchen. It was smaller now, and it was easy to guess that Wanda had been continuing to practice opening a portal but failing. She sounded near tears in frustration and Loki had an edge to his voice that usually meant breaking things to pieces.

"I suggest a snack," Clint called out. He picked up a bag of chips and tossed it unerringly through the hole in spacetime and tried not to snicker when Wanda yelped in surprise. "It's hard to concentrate when you're hungry," he added helpfully.

"You are such a troll," Natasha intoned, smothering her own laughter.

"So says the queen," he replied with a grin. The portal winked out of existence again, right after Wanda's plaintive "No, not again!" was heard. "Poor kid, having to study with Loki."

"It means when she's done training with her and Marissa, that kid is going to run rings around the entire rest of us," Natasha declared.

"That might be useful, though," Steve said. "If something comes up and using the Quinjet would take too long."

"I suppose we're lucky nothing big happened," James murmured. He was still uncomfortable with the idea of fighting as an Avenger, but the last minor outing with them hadn't generated any bad press. Natasha wondered how much of that was because of SHIELD's intervention.

"Maybe people out there are a little too afraid to do something," Clint offered. "I mean, we hang out here, but we'd go anywhere in the world and we've even gone to a different realm to help fight off Thanos. Who's still out there. So, it would take someone stupid or someone with really big balls to try to do anything that would bring us around."

James snorted. "Or they think I'm just going to kill them. It's who I used to be, after all."

"Which hasn't been released, Buck," Steve said, looking at him intently. "And even if it did, that wasn't _you._ We're still trying to figure out who that is." He nodded in Natasha's direction with a fond smile when James would have replied. "Tasha will help, you know. If you let her, you dummy."

"I know. But it's not her job."

"No, that would be a therapist's job. But I mean, if you let her be there. Don't hide or push her away the way you push at us," Steve said pointedly.

He looked away and didn't deny it, which Natasha thought was possibly a small miracle. She smiled encouragingly at Steve and then leaned into James. "I love you, you idiot."

Looking back at her, he answered her smile with one of his own. "I love you, too."

"Look at this love fest," Clint snarked. He tossed a wadded up napkin at Natasha, who caught it immediately. "I'd say get a room, but we have plans for the rest of the afternoon."

"We do?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Meeting Sam over at the VA to plan a talk for some of his patients there, remember?"

Steve groaned and James merely sighed. "Somehow, I find this less fun than promised already," James said. James sighed again and leaned into Natasha.

"Why did I wake up this morning, again?" Steve groused. 

"Because you're a good guy and helps everyone," Clint offered. "I figured I'd tag along for kicks. And because watching people fawn all over you is going to be hilarious."

Both veterans shook their heads as Natasha grinned at them. At least talking about fighting in World War II was a topic they knew well and could do without preparation.

***

When James encouraged Natasha to make her way back to Midtown Manhattan from the VA meeting, she met Loki in the elevator bank of Avengers Tower, looking impatient. "Were you out field tripping with your student?" she asked him sweetly.

Loki leveled his sour look at her but at least uncrossed his arms and stood in a less threatening manner. "I _tried_ to have that as the lesson today."

"Portals must be difficult to make," Natasha replied noncommittally.

"Obviously. Though I thought she was capable of such things."

"So are you upset with her? Or with yourself for overestimating her?"

He pressed his lips together and pondered that. "Neither," he said finally. "I don't know how else to approach it so she may understand."

"Maybe it's not the approach that's the problem. She did the small ones, after all. So she's getting the idea of it, she just doesn't have the size and magnitude right. It could be question a question of practice. I don't suppose you got it right immediately?" Natasha asked as the elevator dinged.

Loki scowled at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

"Be patient."

"It's terrible!" he flung at her.

Natasha grasped his arm and pulled him away from the elevator. "What were you doing just now, before I walked in?"

His scowl deepened. "Not torching the populace, obviously."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Loki," she said in a warning tone.

"I took a walk through the park in the center of this city. Under glamour. You're the only one that can see me as I am."

"I've always been the one that can see you as you are."

Loki blew out an agitated breath. "This is so. Even when I didn't wish it so."

Looping her arm through his, she nodded toward the back entrance to the Tower. "Let's go back out, then. Cooping yourself inside isn't going to help that temper."

"And how will leaving again help?"

"You weren't walking out with me," she replied, giving him a soft smile. He did ease and give her a nod, allowing her to draw him away from the Tower.

They wound up walking north to Columbus Circle, the evening growing darker and chillier. It didn't bother Loki, but he murmured a warming spell for Natasha once he saw the gooseflesh on her arms. Summer would be in New York soon enough, and then it would get muggy and hot enough to make him uncomfortable. Natasha didn't mind the cold, not really, not when it kept her awake and alert, aware of dangers before they came.

"There's Central Park South," she announced, tugging on his arm.

She drew him closer to the massive boulder in the southwestern corner of the park, then managed to clamber on top of it. She patted the top of it beside her, and he leapt up with a sigh. "We've been here before," he commented.

"Yes," she agreed.

"Then why are we here now?"

"I like it here. It's calm and peaceful. Most people don't bother trying to climb up here. It can be pretty tough, especially late at night." She let her fingers trace a few parallel grooves in the stone, leftover scars from the last Ice Age. Loki's hand closed over hers, and she gave it a squeeze. "You're doing fine, you know. You're okay."

"So eager to give me absolution?"

"It's difficult to teach someone. You can't think it'll be easy." She leaned in a little as a way to enhance the sincere tone. Loki liked touch, liked proximity. He liked having her presence to stabilize him, a physical reminder that he wasn't as alone as he feared.

"And so here you are, to encourage me, bolster my spirits, help me feel more secure. You absolve me of any potential guilt, even as you cannot do the same for yourself."

"If I deserve it someday, I'll get it."

Loki looked at her, lips curling into a smile. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" he asked, echoing his long ago words on the helicarrier.

"It's not a debt," she murmured in reply, not eager to answer in the slightest.

"No. If anything, I am in _your_ debt."

"I haven't been keeping score, not for a long time."

"But it was in your favor when you did." She nodded, not going to lie to him about that. "So I do owe you. I owe you much, Natasha. More than I can ever hope to repay."

She let her fingers brush against his cheek gently. "This isn't about breaking even. This isn't about repayment. It's about being safe. Protected."

Loki leaned in and kissed her tenderly, trapping her hand at his cheek beneath his own. "So this is love, isn't it? As close as you can come to it, perhaps."

"Perhaps," she said softly. But where was the lie in it?

She leaned in and kissed him again, tongue swiping at his lips until they opened so she could slide it inside. The kiss was long and slow, sensual and promising more. Loki shifted his grip so he could cup her face in his hands, holding her as he explored her mouth. She smiled against his lips, holding him close, and let her tongue curl around his. It was like slow sparring, breath mingling, holding the promise of more.

When the kiss broke, Natasha pressed her hand against his thigh as she pulled back far enough to touch her forehead to his. "Loki," she murmured a little breathlessly.

"Natasha," he replied, just as breathlessly.

"Open a portal, Loki," she murmured softly. "My bedroom."

"I love you, Natasha," he said softly as a portal opened beside them.

"I know," she murmured against his mouth, kissing him again. "Now let's go home."

Home. It sounded wonderful.

The End


End file.
